


across the doorsill where the two worlds touch

by LochTayBoatSong



Series: Reylo Hiker AU series [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Discussion of birth control, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Graphic descriptions of the Scottish Highlands, Hiking, Hiking Porn, Huddling For Warmth, POV Rey (Star Wars), Seasonal Affective Disorder, Tea cures all ills, The Good Boi Sweater Strikes Back, Vaginal Sex, groan-worthy Airplane! references, love letter to Scotland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LochTayBoatSong/pseuds/LochTayBoatSong
Summary: Eleven months after the events of "the breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you," Rey Johnson and Ben Solo begin a new adventure on the West Highland Way and reflect back on the first year of their relationship.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Reylo Hiker AU series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767616
Comments: 134
Kudos: 44





	1. Day 1: Milngavie to Drymen, 12 miles

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is folks, the sequel to [The Breeze at Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287067/chapters/53226562)! If you're joining me in this Hiker AU world for the first time, it is recommended but not required that you read that one first. If you're joining me again, welcome back! Grab your favorite road trip snacks and buckle in!
> 
> Thanks to [Rumi](https://wordsfortheyear.com/2015/09/04/the-breeze-at-dawn-by-rumi/) for once again supplying the title.
> 
> This is gloriously unbeta'd and any mistakes are my own. As with "Breeze," I've done my best to keep the route descriptions as high-fidelity as possible, so that anyone who wants to follow Rey and Ben's journey on Google Maps may do so. :) On to the story!

“Oot o’ the way, Sunday driver.” Tai’s dispassionate tone was totally at odds with the way he was weaving and careening the car through traffic, swerving around a slow-moving Fiat and missing its bumper by mere inches. Rey, buckled into the backseat next to Ben, decided that now would be an excellent time to emulate the example of the ostrich, and duly buried her face into the rucksack she held on her lap.

Ben’s voice issued from next to her, seemingly calm, but with a palpable note of strain. “We’re not in a huge hurry, Tai.”

“Don’t be silly,” came the urbane rejoinder from the driver’s seat. “The pair o’ you have twelve miles tae walk today, and I’ll no’ have you finishing it in darkness.”

Rey wanted to point out that, since it was mid-April, the sun wouldn’t be setting until after 8pm and she and Ben therefore had _plenty_ of time to make their miles, even if they ended up sitting in Glasgow traffic for awhile. But at that precise moment Tai abruptly swerved the car again with all the verve of a Formula One driver, and she resolutely pressed her face even deeper into the surface of the backpack.

She liked Tai; truly she did. He was Ben’s flatmate, and he’d treated her like an old friend from the moment they’d met on her first visit to Glasgow the previous summer. When Ben had brought her home from the train station that first time, Tai had been waiting to welcome her with a cup of tea, a hearty kiss on either cheek, and an equally hearty “ _Fáilte_ , lass.” He was the most even-keeled and unflappable person she’d ever met, and he was a good friend to Ben.

He was also a truly frightening driver, a trait that did not mesh whatsoever with his habitually calm, almost meditative demeanor.

But he’d insisted on driving them to the trailhead in Milngavie, and it would have been churlish to refuse, so here they were.

After a few more minutes communing with her backpack, the motion of the car smoothed out and Rey dared to raise her head and look out the window. With a sigh of relief, she saw that they’d left the busiest part of Glasgow behind, and that the most stressful part of the ride was therefore over. She could relax now, and relish these last few minutes of idleness before she and Ben began their journey.

They were about to walk the West Highland Way. Just _thinking_ that sentence made her shiver slightly with excitement and anticipation. It was Scotland’s oldest long-distance route and one of the most famous long-distance hikes anywhere in the world, and it was a trip she and Ben had been planning for the past ten months; almost since they’d first met.

Rey and Ben were both enthusiastic about the outdoors. Her friend Rose often teased her that it was their love language. Rey found it hard to disagree with Rose’s assessment, especially given how she and Ben had met – both hiking Hadrian’s Wall. They’d started that trip separately, as strangers. By the time they finished it, they were a couple. And while it wouldn’t be precisely accurate to say they were inseparable – the relationship was long-distance, given that Rey lived and worked in Durham and Ben lived and studied in Glasgow– they were tightly bonded.

Rey looked over at Ben and smiled. His face was angled away from her as he looked out the car window, watching as they gradually left the urban sprawl of Glasgow behind and approached the suburb of Milngavie. “ _Mull-GUY,”_ Rey silently reminded herself. Tai’s pained look and Ben’s look of repressed hilarity the first time she’d said “Miln-GAH-vee” out loud were etched in her brain, never to be forgotten. At the moment though, Ben’s face was calm and relaxed. Only the fingers drumming restlessly on his thigh betrayed any anticipation he might have been feeling. 

Rey was certainly feeling anticipation. They’d be walking 96 miles over the next eight days, along Loch Lomond, through the Highlands, and over Rannoch Moor to eventually reach the town of Fort William, and she couldn’t wait to begin.

She bounced in her seat a little bit, attracting the attention of both of the men in the car. Ben looked over and smiled at her, and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Excited, _mo chridhe_?”

“ _So_ excited,” Rey smiled back.

“Just remember tae watch for the wild haggis,” Tai drawled from the driver’s seat. “They’ll mow ye right doon, so they will.”

***

Ten minutes later Tai pulled into a public parking lot between Milngavie’s small train station and its high street. As he slowly cruised around, looking for an empty spot, Rey surveyed the scene. Today was Saturday, as well as Easter weekend: the official start of the summer outdoor season in much of the UK, including Scotland. As a result, what they could see of Milngavie was teeming with people who looked like her and Ben: dressed for walking and carrying heavy backpacks. Some would be heading for the modest hills a few miles north of Milngavie. A handful would be bound for the Rob Roy Way, another long-distance path which intersected with the West Highland Way in Drymen. But most of them, like her and Ben, were starting thru-hikes of the West Highland Way today.

Tai finally found an empty spot and pulled in, engaging the handbrake and cutting the engine. The three of them piled out of the car, Rey and Ben with their backpacks in tow. Tai leisurely stretched his arms overhead as Rey and Ben made their final clothing and footwear adjustments and donned their backpacks, buckling and tightening straps and checking that all necessary gear was to hand.

Rey mentally ran through everything she’d packed – a few changes of clothes, wet weather gear, a towel, a substantial winter jacket, and plenty of socks, in addition to her usual navigational aids and a few other odds and ends. Ben’s backpack was less weighed down than it usually was, as he’d foregone the camping gear he typically took on his own trips into the hills – a concession to the unpredictability of the April weather. They had a roof over their heads booked for every night of the trip, though some would likely be more comfortable than others. 

Rey looked up at the sky as she buckled her chest-strap. Fluffy white clouds drifted above the trees, but the sun was out, reflecting somewhat comically off of Tai’s perfectly bald head. The temperature was cool, but nothing a light jacket couldn’t combat. In short: near-ideal walking weather to begin their trip. Rey felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the thought.

Ben finished his own adjustments and ran a hand through his inky-black hair – a gesture that Rey, after eleven months of dating, instantly recognized as a nervous habit. Anyone who saw the two of them might assume that Ben – six-foot-three, muscular, and fit – was the more experienced long-distance walker, but that assumption would be quite mistaken. Rey had been exploring Britain’s trails since she was young, while this expedition would only be Ben’s second long-distance trip. His comfort zone lay in hillwalking – climbing mountains, achieving ascent rather than linear distance, and typically spending no more than a night or two away from home. But she knew he was excited for the challenge ahead, just as she was.

“Come on,” said Tai. “Let’s get a photo, and then off wi’ ye.” Rey smiled and hefted her trekking poles as the three of them made their way to Milngavie’s high street. The obelisk marking the start of the trail was easy to find, as numerous other walkers were clustered around it, getting their own “starting line” photos. The obelisk itself was a simple affair of polished grey stone, bearing the thistle symbol of Scotland’s Great Trails and the words “West Highland Way.” When it was finally Rey and Ben’s turn for a photo, Rey handed her phone to Tai and posed with Ben, holding her trekking poles with one hand and making a peace sign with the other, while Ben curled a hand against the small of her back. Rey knew how their smiles would look in the photo – hers broad and toothy, Ben’s milder and slightly quizzical, his shoulders slightly bent to shrink the eight-inch gap between their heights.

Photo taken, Tai handed Rey’s phone back, and then encompassed the two of them in his pale blue gaze. “Be safe. May the road rise up to meet you, and may the wind be at your back.”

“Thanks, Tai.” Ben grasped Tai’s forearm and then hugged him, briefly but fiercely. “See you next Sunday.” 

Tai returned Ben’s hug, and then embraced Rey in turn. “Go careful. Take care of him, lass.”

Rey smiled up at Tai as he released her. “I always do.”

Tai turned to make his way back to the car, and Rey and Ben watched him go. Just as they were about to turn and begin their walk, Tai fired off one last admonition:

“No babies on the trail!”

***

From Milngavie’s high street, the West Highland Way crossed a small footbridge over a stream called Allander Water and immediately entered a forest. Rey took a deep breath in as she and Ben strolled through the woods, inhaling the scent of damp earth and new vegetation. Birds twittered somewhere over her head.

Scottish winters were assertive, and slow to release their grip on the landscape. She’d known this in an academic way, growing up in the north of England, but after a winter of regular trips to Glasgow to visit Ben, she knew it firsthand now, too. But here and now, with soft mulch under her feet, greenery creeping in at the forest margins, and evidence of the earth waking and stretching all around her, Rey knew spring had arrived.

The trail was dotted liberally with other walkers – a mix of West Highland Way walkers and locals out for their daily exercise. But Rey and Ben quickly established a pace that suited them both, and contrived to carve out their own space on the trail. They outstripped slower walkers – a trio of young university students toiling under a load of camping equipment, an elderly couple walking their cocker spaniel – but stayed well behind the faster ones. Before long, they had their own bit of trail to themselves.

Rey sighed contentedly.

“In your happy place?” Ben drawled as he grinned down at her.

“Yes,” Rey affirmed as she returned his grin.

“Me too.” Ben was quiet for a minute, as they emerged from Mugdock Wood and slackened their pace for a few moments to take in the view of Craigallian Loch, a little ahead of them on the right. Then he sighed in turn. “It’s good to be outdoors again. To get away from school and everything for a bit.”

Rey pressed her shoulder to his sympathetically. “You’re nearly there, Ben. Only two more months til graduation.”

“I know.”

There was more to that sentence that was left unsaid, by mutual unspoken agreement. Ben had lived in Scotland for more than a decade, but he was an American citizen. And with politics being what they were at the moment, there was no guarantee he’d be able to remain in the UK after he graduated and his student visa expired. He was intending to apply for indefinite leave to remain on the basis of his lengthy residence in Scotland, but with the Brexit situation continually changing, he was nervous about relying on that. So he was assiduously looking for jobs that would sponsor him on an employment visa, while simultaneously completing the last of his graduate school coursework. But there was no guarantee that his job search would be successful. 

Rey had made the conscious decision not to think about that on this trip. For her, walking holidays had always been an exercise in being in the moment, and she’d decided that this walking holiday would be no different. For the next week, she and Ben would simply be a couple enjoying their Easter holidays together, and that was all.

Craigallian Loch made a pretty picture in the spring sunlight. It was a roughly oval-shaped loch, a bit less than half a mile long, which sat at the base of a line of hills which were part of the Campsie Fells. Out on the loch she could see a man in a rowboat, dozing over his fishing pole. She got her phone out to take a picture, and smiled to herself. She vividly remembered the first proper route-planning session for this trip; she and Ben poring over a trail map at her kitchen table over toast and tea on a June morning. “The first day is supposed to be the least picturesque,” she remembered Ben saying, a slight frown on his face. 

_“Plenty picturesque for me,”_ she thought to herself now.

Shortly after passing by Craigallian Loch, they skirted around a small caravan park and reached a B-class road. Watching carefully for traffic, they followed the road for a short distance and then turned right, through a gate and onto another path. They were now walking almost directly at Dumgoyne, a volcanic plug that formed part of the western boundary of the Campsie Fells, and a distinctive landmark. 

“So what do you think so far?” Ben asked.

“I love it,” Rey immediately replied. “I had a feeling I would.” A few moments lapsed in silence, as they negotiated a gravelly downslope in the trail. “I’ve seen some of this before though, you know.” She and Ben had explored the countryside within easy driving distance of Glasgow on some of her previous visits. This part of Scotland was, therefore, reasonably familiar territory to Rey.

“I know,” Ben replied. “But I still want to hear it. I always want to hear what you think about things.”

Rey paused and reached a hand up to Ben’s neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

Ben had been eager to show Rey all his favorite things about his adopted country from the very beginning of their relationship. She’d been to the south of Scotland before, while hiking the Pennine Way and Saint Cuthbert's Way, but most of what she’d seen and experienced with Ben had been new to her. Ben, normally a reserved and self-possessed man, got practically giddy whenever they planned to do something new on one of her visits. Scotland was dear to him, and showing Rey all the reasons why was something he took delight in.

Rey took delight in all the new sights and experiences as well, but seeing that level of happiness in Ben also made her happy. Ben’s genuine smiles were rare and precious things, and Rey had made it a personal mission to prompt more of them.

They gradually circled around a tree-covered knoll, and crossed a small footbridge over another stream. They paused for water, and Rey fished her trail map out of a jacket pocket as Ben devoured a granola bar.

“Halfway,” she pronounced. “We’re about a mile and a half from the Beech Tree Inn. Proper rest break there?”

“Sounds good.” Ben capped his water bottle and stowed it, peering up at the sky. “Looks like we might be in for some rain later.”

Rey followed his gaze, and saw that it was indeed getting cloudier to their north. She could still see plenty of blue sky through irregular patches in the clouds, but the smell of rain was on the wind.

They continued on.

***

Another forty minutes of walking on a gravel track, with Dumgoyne and the whisky distillery at its base to their right, brought them to the Beech Tree Inn.

The Beech Tree prided itself on being the first “rest stop” on the West Highland Way. Part café, part farm animal petting zoo, it prominently displayed a sign with a cheeky poem, cheerfully informing northbound walkers that they’d walked seven miles, and that there were “only” 89 to go until Fort William.

There were several other walkers in the picnic area already, but Rey and Ben found an empty seat – made from a giant wooden log – and gratefully swung their backpacks off and down. Ben began rummaging through his backpack as Rey interlaced her fingers behind her back and leaned far forward, stretching out her shoulders.

“What flavor do you want, _mo chridhe_?” Ben asked from the depths of his backpack.

“Chicken fajita,” Rey immediately answered.

Ben may have been willing to leave his tent and sleeping bag behind in Glasgow, but he hadn’t been willing to leave his beloved JetBoil. Rey was grateful for that now as he began preparing lunch for them both, boiling water as she set to work stretching out her hamstrings. 

Within a few minutes, Ben had their meal ready, and he and Rey settled in to eat. She’d never eaten freeze-dried food prior to meeting Ben, instead subsisting on cold sandwiches, dried fruit, and other typical hiker fare while on her walking holidays. But Ben had taught her to respect and adore Mountain House over the course of the weekend trips they’d taken in the past year. Being able to have a hot meal ready within a few minutes while out on the trail had been a revelation to Rey, and she hadn’t looked back since.

They ate in companionable silence, and Rey took the opportunity to absorb the landscape a little more. Dumgoyne was a little behind them now; Loch Lomond was somewhere to their northwest. Stands of evergreen trees dotted the hillside immediately to their east, seeming to breathe out cool, misty air. Rey took in a deep breath of it now and held it in her lungs, letting it out slowly. A robin swooped down from a nearby tree and landed near her foot, hopping around in hopes of a dropped morsel of food. Rey smiled as she watched it make a purposeful circuit around the picnic area, pausing to peck at a segment of orange that had been dropped by a howling toddler en route to the animal-viewing area with his harried parents.

The picnic area of the Beech Tree made for good people-watching, too. As she and Ben ate their lunch, Rey watched other walkers leave and arrive, and listened to them talk, joke, and squabble with each other. The atmosphere was festive; saturated with the communal excitement of a journey’s beginning, but it was peaceful too. 

Rey and Ben were already sitting hip-to-hip, but she settled her weight more firmly against him now, leaning her head on his shoulder. He leaned back against her in response, pressing a kiss to her hair in an almost absentminded way before continuing to eat his food. He’d always been the slower eater of the two of them – Rey practically inhaled her food, a holdover from the food insecurity of her early childhood. “I love you,” she murmured to him.

Ben kissed her hair again, more purposefully this time. “I love you too, _mo chridhe_ ,” he murmured back.

The robin twittered and flew back into its tree.

***

Another two miles of walking on a gravel track brought them to the village of Gartness, which had a campsite, a small café, and an honesty box. It also marked the end of any gentle conditions underfoot for the day – the final three miles to Drymen were on a minor road which skirted around a pair of small hills.

Rey couldn’t help grimacing as they began making their way down the road. Paved roads always made for unpleasant walking. Grass and dirt yielded under human feet, giving way just enough to displace the force created by human foot-strikes. Tarmac had no such give. The soles of one’s feet had to conform to it, not the other way around; and by the time she and Ben passed by another campsite at Easter Drumquhassle she was feeling distinctly footsore and ready to conclude the day. At long last they reached a marked gate which led them into a sloping cow pasture – empty of its occupants for now, but muddy from their leavings and from recent rain. They picked their way through the pasture and up the hill, and when they let themselves out of the field through another marked gate they were officially in the village of Drymen.

“Day One down,” Ben pronounced with satisfaction. “Now we just have to find this church.”

The converted church which was to be their accommodation for the evening turned out to be easy to find. It was located on Drymen’s main road, not at all far from the trail. Rey and Ben shambled into the reception area and took their places in the queue of other guests. As the desk attendant regretfully told the two tired- and crestfallen-looking young men at the front of the queue that every bed in the facility was booked for the evening, Rey thought of the night ahead with a bit of resignation. It was a holiday weekend at the beginning of the hiking season, and she and Ben had been hard-pressed to get a booking here themselves. The best they’d been able to get was two beds in the eight-bed bunkroom, and from the sound of it, every one of those eight beds would be full. Rey wasn’t precisely averse to shared accommodation – it tended to be cheap, and she’d availed herself of it on many occasions in the past – but it wasn’t exactly the ideal way to pass a night on holiday with her boyfriend.

She determinedly put those thoughts aside as she and Ben made their way down the hall to the bunkroom. They had private rooms booked for later in the trip, and in the meantime a shared room would save them some money. Ben unlocked the door to the bunkroom, and they let themselves in and took a look around. It was surprisingly light and airy for what was effectively a hostel room, with a two-level bunkbed situated in each of the room’s four corners. There were no other occupants in the room at present, but others had clearly been there: backpacks and clothing items were placed on and slung over beds, staking claims. The bunkbed in the far right corner was unclaimed, so Rey and Ben made their way across the room to it. “I’ll take the top bunk,” Rey said, flinging her backpack up and onto the bunk in question with an almighty heave.

“Are you sure?” asked Ben.

“Yes.” Rey gripped the metal railing lining the edge of the upper bunk and shook it. “Seems sturdy. But I still don’t think I want you suspended in space above me all night, you rudely large man.”

Ben smirked and sat down on the bottom bunk to begin unlacing his boots. “Have it your way, _cariad_.” 

Rey smirked in return, not without affection. Ben habitually called her by non-English pet names, but Welsh endearments were reserved for when she was being pert.

She braced a foot against the bunkbed ladder and began unlacing her own boots, as Ben shucked his and stowed them underneath the bottom bunk. Then, with all the grace of a large tree being felled, he slumped sideways onto the mattress. He groaned luxuriantly as he turned onto his back and stretched out his arms and legs. “This mattress is actually quite comfortable.” 

Rey stowed her boots next to Ben’s, and then divested herself of her jacket and slung it over the bunk railing. Then she crawled into the bottom bunk alongside Ben, tangling her legs with his as he turned onto his side to make room for her. He reached behind her head to loosen the tie holding her brown hair up in a bun, and then began to gently run his fingers through it. Rey sighed with contentment, burrowing into Ben’s chest and allowing her eyes to flutter closed. Outside, the rain that had been vaguely threatening to fall for most of the afternoon finally commenced, pattering against the window in an irregular tattoo.

Time passed. Rey couldn’t have said how long; it could have been five minutes or an hour. Ben’s hand eventually stilled and they both dozed, lulled by the rain and by pleasantly fatigued muscles. But in time Ben’s hand moved again, gently tracing her jaw and rousing her to wakefulness. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, once, twice, before he leaned away again with a sigh. “We should get up and showered, _mo chridhe_. Before our muscles get too stiff.”

Rey made a noise of discontent but duly began to extricate herself from the bunk, knowing the wisdom of Ben’s words. And they were borne out – after getting herself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, she had to take several moments to gather herself before rising to stand on protesting legs, stiff from sudden inactivity after twelve miles of walking.

Just as she was beginning to rummage through her backpack for toiletries and clean clothes, the door opened and three of their roommates – a father with his two young sons, aged about seven and nine – trundled in. Commotion in the hall signaled that more of their roommates were likely not far behind. Rey looked over her shoulder to confirm what she vaguely remembered reading on the booking website: that this bunkroom had two bathrooms attached, each with one shower. And demand for those showers was about to increase precipitously.

She turned around again and met Ben’s gaze. “Meet you in the common room after we both shower?”

At Ben’s nod, Rey turned and beat a hasty retreat to the first shower room, shutting and latching the door just as the two young boys began to loudly argue over which of them would get to use the toilet first.

***

Hours later, Rey and Ben strolled unhurriedly back to their accommodation after dinner. They’d eaten in the restaurant of a hotel directly on the village square, and then lingered to watch a rugby game being televised in the pub next door. The sun had gone down and, although the rain had stopped some time ago, there were lingering clouds hastening the falling of the night.

Rey was tired, but she also felt an extraordinary sense of well-being. Like Ben’s hand in hers was the only thing keeping her from floating away on a wave of pure contentment. The very air around her felt like it was enfolding her in an embrace, whispering _“Be welcome here.”_

“What time do you want to start, tomorrow?” Ben asked her as they neared the converted church.

“Tomorrow’s a long day,” Rey mused. “Out the door by eight?”

“Sounds good.” Ben stopped them short with a gentle tug on Rey’s hand, before they walked up the short drive that would take them to the entrance. “I want to kiss you goodnight here, where we don’t have an audience.”

Rey smiled up at him the dark, and obligingly wound her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her tenderly. Then, without breaking the kiss, he tightened his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. Rey laughed into the kiss as he spun them around once, before gently setting her back on her feet. He loosened his embrace but didn’t end it, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ben. So much.”

They walked inside and made their way to the bunkroom, letting themselves in quietly. Not all of the other occupants were present, but the ones in the room were already asleep, so Ben and Rey made their way quietly across the room to their own bunkbed, doing their best not to make any noise. Rey had laid out what she needed to prepare for bed before leaving for dinner, in anticipation of a late return, and she quickly grabbed her toothbrush and base layer for the next day before slipping into the shower room. 

Teeth brushed and sleeping clothes on, Rey let herself back into the bunkroom and steeled herself for the vault up into the top bunk. The temptation was great to simply sleep in the bottom bunk with Ben, but Rey pushed it aside. She’d shared hostel rooms with amorous couples before and had no wish to subject anyone else to that awkward experience. She braced her stiff muscles, and with an almighty effort and a boost from Ben, clambered up the ladder and into the top bunk. She took several moments to arrange herself under the duvet, and then turned to Ben where he lingered by the railing, evidently desirous of one last goodnight kiss after all. She leaned over the railing to exchange a final, chaste kiss with Ben, and then felt the entire structure shift slightly as he settled into the bottom bunk beneath her.

Rey had two last conscious thoughts before sleep took her: That it felt supremely odd to be sleeping near Ben but not next to him, and that there was also nowhere else she would rather have been.


	2. Day 2: Drymen to Rowardennan, 15 miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Solstice all! This chapter took longer to write than I wanted it to, because this fic is flatly refusing to be written in order. However, the good news about that is that several of the future chapters are already partway written, so I am cautiously optimistic that they'll be up more quickly than this one was!
> 
> And now, a brief detour to Edinburgh...

_August (8 months ago)_

Edinburgh in August was a riot of color and noise, heaving with the sounds and smells of people, street food, and mad revelry. Rey, Ben, Tai, Rose, and Jannah threaded their way through the throngs of other festival-goers, making a slow and winding progress down the Royal Mile. It was barely mid-morning, but performers and promoters already lined the street at regular intervals, thrusting flyers for various shows and art installations at them as they passed. Somewhere ahead of them a bagpiper was piping, the distinctive, plaintive sound carrying for a hundred yards in all directions.

The Edinburgh International Festival, and the concurrent Edinburgh Fringe, were in full swing. Held in Edinburgh for three and a half weeks every August, they were two of the biggest performing arts festivals in the world. While the Edinburgh International Festival was invitation-only and more “high-brow,” hosting top-tier classical performers, ballet companies, and opera singers, the Fringe was open to anyone who could secure a performance venue and drew stand-up comics, poets and spoken-word performers, circus and burlesque artists, and musicians and theater troupes of all genres and skill levels. Performances went on for nearly 24 hours a day in more than 300 venues across the city, and Rey and her friends were determined to see as many as they could during this weekend trip. They’d gone to see the Royal Military Tattoo, a huge bagpipe, drum, and military band show held on the esplanade of Edinburgh Castle the previous night, and now they were waiting to see where the day would take them.

After their unhurried stroll through the frenetic atmosphere of the Royal Mile, the group reached the Scottish Parliament building at its eastern end, nestled in the shadow of Arthur’s Seat and facing Holyrood Palace across a narrow, comparatively quiet boulevard. They found an empty corner of the grassy lawn bordering the decorative pool near the building’s entrance, and sat down to survey the flyers they’d collected. 

“This one looks funny,” Rose said. “’Shitfaced Shakespeare.’”

“I’ve heard o’ that one,” Tai replied. “They do a straight Shakespeare play, but one o’ the cast members gets pished beforehand. Supposed to be a laugh a minute.”

“Ooh, I wanna see that one,” Rey said.

“Next performance is at eight tonight, at a venue on George Square,” Rose read out.

“That’s our evening show settled then,” Jannah said, continuing to sift through her flyers. “Anyone see anything else that looks promising?”

“Here’s one,” said Ben. “A poetry slam at Kilderkin, starting in…” – he checked his watch – “ten minutes.”

“Ooh, I’m game!” said Rose, already beginning to stand up.

“Will we make it in time?” asked Rey.

“Aye.” Tai gestured with his head. “It’s only just up the street. We passed it on the way here.”

Kilderkin was a moderately-sized pub near the bottom of the Royal Mile, which had converted half its seating space into a stage for the duration of the festival. The relatively early hour meant that the audience seats were barely half-full, and they were able to find a row of five empty seats with ease: Ben and Tai at either end, with Rey, Rose, and Jannah between them.

As the performance began and the poets took it in turns to declaim their verses, both prepared and improvised, Rey leaned slightly into Ben where he sat next to her. His arm was extended along the back of her chair, but as she leaned toward him he dropped it slightly to rest loosely around her shoulders. Rey gave him a happy smile, and then looked over to her other side, where Rose, Jannah, and Tai were all in profile, watching the performers with rapt attention. She smiled again, to herself, and then turned her attention back to the poets.

The day slowly passed in that leisurely, sultry way that late summer days tended to do. After the poetry slam, they got lunch from a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant off the Royal Mile, and watched a modern dance performance on one of the stages set up in Princes Street Gardens. Then they saw a classical string quartet, performing in a paradoxically grungy venue on Cowgate. Toward evening they began to wend their way away from Edinburgh’s Old Town and toward the University of Edinburgh, getting dinner at a crowded noodle bar on the way. 

Once the group finished dinner they still had some time before the venue would begin seating for the Shitfaced Shakespeare performance, so they walked the block to George Square. One of the University of Edinburgh’s main quadrangles, it was ordinarily an open, tree-lined garden, surrounded by university buildings on three sides. During the Festival it became home to dozens of pop-up bars, food trucks, and small performance spaces, but there were still open areas where people could congregate and take their ease. Their group found one of these free areas and settled in to lounge and people-watch.

Rose stretched out on the ground with a happy sigh, resting her head on Rey’s thigh and her feet in Jannah’s lap. “This was a good idea. Thanks for inviting us all up here, boys.”

Tai sprawled on his stomach next to Rose, and playfully tweaked a strand of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “Nae bother, lass. The Festival’s more fun in groups.”

Rey had to concur. This was her first-ever trip to Edinburgh, not counting the couple of times she’d changed trains here en route visit Ben in Glasgow. And she couldn’t imagine having done it any other way. The festival atmosphere made the city feel positively _alive_ with joy and creativity. Vibrations of the old world and the new mingled freely, winding around the battlements of the castle and the spires of St. Giles’ Cathedral, and along the cobbled walkways of the university grounds where they now lazed in the summer dusk. And what made it all the better was the people she was here with: Rose and Jannah, her flatmates and dearest friends; Tai, a newer friend, but one she was quickly growing fond of; and Ben, the man she loved.

Rey smiled up at the sky. She loved Ben. She glanced down at him, where his head rested on her other thigh, just barely touching Rose’s. His eyes were closed, and he looked utterly peaceful and content. She smoothed an errant curl out of his face, and he lightly kissed her wrist as it moved past his lips, without opening his eyes.

She hadn’t told Ben she loved him yet. She’d told him she was _falling in love_ with him, three months ago, in a field outside Carlisle. But she hadn’t told him the simple, unqualified words yet. She smiled a secret little smile to herself.

She’d tell him tonight.

With that decision made, Rey gazed idly at the university buildings around them, halfway listening to Jannah and Tai’s discussion of the string quartet they’d seen earlier. From where they sat and lounged in the gardens of George Square, she could just see into the windows of the university’s main library, where students sat hunched at computers and writing desks, furiously typing away at dissertations or feverishly drawing schematics and annotating scholarly works. Rey smiled to herself. The undergraduate students might be on summer holidays at the moment, but postgraduate work never seemed to stop. The postgraduate students at Durham University would be looking much the same way right about now. Ben would be looking that way in the late spring. She herself hadn’t gone down that particular academic road; at least not yet. She’d been content with her job as a research assistant for the last year and a bit. But maybe a day would come…

Almost without her being fully aware of it, an idea bloomed in Rey’s head, which she filed away for closer examination and research later.

A few hours later, after a raucous performance of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ featuring a thoroughly inebriated Bottom, Rey, Ben, Tai, Rose, and Jannah walked back to their hotel, still buzzing from the performance. Every minute or so, one of them – typically either Rey or Rose – would burst into giggles from a remembered quote, which would make the rest of them dissolve into laughter as they walked. 

Their hotel was two blocks from the Royal Mile. Rey mentally blessed Tai, who’d called in a favor from a friend who worked at the hotel chain and had been able to secure them rooms – a feat in itself in Edinburgh in August – and at the winter rate, which was approximately half the festival rate. When they were nearly within sight of the hotel, Rey squeezed Ben’s hand, slowing them both to a stop as Tai, Jannah, and Rose walked ahead, guffawing anew over something that had happened during the ‘play within a play’ toward the end of the performance.

Ben turned to face Rey with a questioning look, and she took his other hand, lacing their fingers together. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Ben said back.

Rey gathered her courage and looked up into Ben’s face, lit by the streetlights. “I love you.”

A slow, sweet smile spread across Ben’s face. It was Rey’s favorite smile of his – the one that lit his eyes, dimpled his cheeks, and showed all his teeth. He huffed a little laugh and bent down to touch his forehead to Rey’s. “You beat me to it. I was going to tell you when we got up to the room.”

Now it was Rey’s turn to smile – a smile so wide and irrepressible that it made her cheeks hurt. She felt happy tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “You can tell me now, if you want,” she said, voice slightly tremulous from emotion. “Or you can do it when we get upstairs, like you planned!”

Ben smiled again and squeezed her hands. “Why not both?” He paused, drew his head away from hers, and met her sparkling hazel eyes with his warm brown ones. “I love you.”

Rey let go of Ben’s hands and flung her arms around his neck, laughing and crying with joy.

He told her again, in their hotel room a few minutes later.

So did she.

***

_Now_

Rey was rudely roused from a pleasant dream about wood sprites and street musicians by the rambunctious noises of two young boys, fresh from sleep and exuberantly getting ready for their own day in Scotland’s great outdoors, blithely ignoring their father’s shushings. She blearily checked her watch, and rubbed her eyes in consternation. Rey was habitually an early riser, but this was early even by her standards. She grumbled a little, turned on her side to face the wall, and burrowed further into the duvet, attempting to block out the noise. But as the other inhabitants of the shared room swiftly began to rise and begin their own morning routines, she decided to give it up as a bad job and greet the day. Ben had evidently arrived at the same conclusion, because she felt the bunk jostle as he shifted out of his own bed.

Rey sighed, turned back to her other side, and inhaled a surprised gasp as she came nose-to-nose with a chocolate bunny, still wrapped in brightly-colored tinfoil.

Ben’s head popped over the side of her bunk, his brown eyes twinkling and a corner of his mouth pulled up in a small grin. “Happy Easter, Rey.”

***

An hour later, after a simple breakfast of toast, tea, and fruit, Rey and Ben were skirting around the eastern edge of Drymen, en route to the gravel forestry road that would take them up and into Garadhban Forest. The morning was cool but sunny, with wispy white cirrus clouds drifting far overhead. Rey imagined that if she could reach up and touch the sky, it would feel the way the pine-scented air smelled: cool and bracing, but also smooth and oddly comforting. Like the moment of anticipation just before putting on a warm coat on a cold day.

She took a deep breath in and let it out on a slightly shaky sigh. Ben looked down at her with an eyebrow raised in question. “Alright, _mo chridhe_?”

“Just a little nervous, I guess,” Rey replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever done a fifteen-mile day so early on in a trip before.”

“Mm. I’m not sure I have either, now that you mention it. But we’ve both done fifteen-mile days before, so surely we can do it again.”

Rey sighed nervously again, but found a smile. “Yep, I have faith in us. And don’t call me Shirley.”

Ben rolled his eyes but snorted a laugh nevertheless, as they found the waymarker for the forestry road and began their long day in earnest.

The next hour or so made for very pleasant walking. After about a mile on the forestry track, it intersected with a paved single-track road. A wooden signpost informed them that this was also the West Highland Way’s intersection with the Rob Roy Way, which followed the single-track road in a more northeasterly direction en route to Pitlochry, nearly 80 miles away. After crossing the paved road, the broad gravel track climbed gently up into the forest. Birds chirped in the trees all around them, and the hiking was easy enough that Rey and Ben had leisure to chat – about what Jannah’s student choristers would be singing for the Easter service at Durham Cathedral that morning, about how Tai’s efforts to open his own yoga studio were going, and about what the Rob Roy Way might have to offer.

“I don’t actually know much about it,” Ben said, in answer to Rey’s question. “Just that it goes from Drymen to Pitlochry. Planning your next trip already, _mo chridhe_?” he asked, bumping her shoulder.

“Just considering possibilities,” Rey replied with an irreverent grin.

“Shall we turn around and see for ourselves, then?” Ben jokingly asked.

“Nah,” Rey replied. “You’re not getting out of the West Highland Way _that_ easily, sir. You’ve been promising to show me this part of the Highlands for months.”

“So I have. We’ll put the Rob Roy Way on the list for another time, then.”

They continued to stride out through the forest, meeting other walkers at regular intervals – overtaking and being overtaken by other West Highland Way walkers, as well as day-trippers out for a Sunday morning daunder. They caught occasional glimpses of Loch Lomond through the trees, and during lulls in their conversation, Rey could hear Ben softly humming. The tune was either “Loch Lomond” or “Rhythm of My Heart,” Rey couldn’t quite tell which. Ben had a pleasant voice but didn’t sing much, out of self-consciousness, so Rey contented herself with whatever snatches of song he was moved enough to sing or hum, whenever the occasion arose. Just at that moment, Ben surprised her by softly singing out loud:

_Oh whither away my bonny maid_

_Sae late and sae far in the glomin’_

_The mist gathers gray o’er moorland and brae_

_Oh whither sae far are ye roamin’?_

_“Ah,”_ she thought. _“’Loch Lomond,’” then_.

Ben continued to sing little snatches of the song from time to time (“Oh ye’ll tak’ the high road and I’ll tak’ the low…”) until they reached the far edge of the forest, and a fork in the trail. Rey briefly unslung her backpack and retrieved her map to consider their options, while Ben drank some water. 

The main West Highland Way route forked right, to travel across moorland and over the shoulder of Conic Hill before descending to reach the town of Balmaha by the loch shore. Forking to the left was a “foul weather” route, which went immediately downhill to meet a tarmac road, also leading to Balmaha. “’You’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low,’ indeed,” she mused.

“Think you’re up for the high route, _mo leannan_?” Ben asked, stowing his water bottle.

“Yes,” Rey said decisively, folding her map back up and taking a drink from her own water bottle. “It’s far too early in the day for tarmac. Let’s do the high route.”

After turning to follow the right-hand fork, the trees gradually thinned away, and Rey and Ben passed through a gate to strike out onto the moor. The gate had signs expressly forbidding dogs on this section of the path for the entire month of April, due to the presence of heavily pregnant ewes and newborn lambs. Rey could see and hear fluffy spring lambs in a nearby field, some of which did indeed look only days old. She cooed a little at one which came near the stone wall separating its field from the trail to investigate them, and she quickly took a picture with her phone before it scampered back to its mother.

They continued across the moor, crossing small footbridges over two streams. After crossing the second and larger of the two streams, the path began to climb steadily over the northern shoulder of Conic Hill, one of many hills which lined the full length of Loch Lomond. All conversation died away as Ben and Rey slogged steadily uphill, breathing heavily and taking care with their footing on the uneven path. Rey was grateful for her trekking poles, which provided her with added balance over uneven terrain, in addition to being handy hill-climbing aids. At length she and Ben reached a footpath which branched off the trail and led up to the summit of the hill, and they both paused to catch their breath.

“Fancy going up?” Ben gestured toward the summit path as he took another swig of water. “I’d like to show you the view from the top, if you’re up for it.”

Rey took a moment to eye the hill. It would be a steep climb, but she estimated they were less than 200 feet below the summit. “Why not? We’re so close to the top, we may as well.” As they started up the path, she had enough breath for one last question. “You’ve climbed this hill before, I take it?”

“Aye. The view from the top is worth it, I promise.”

 _“It’d better be, Solo,”_ Rey thought to herself over the next several minutes as they made the short, sharp climb to the summit. Ben climbed ahead of her, sure-footed in his mountaineering boots, and when she reached the final rocky scramble to the summit plateau Ben was waiting for her, arm extended to pull her up the final few feet. He’d already divested himself of his backpack, and he helped Rey discard hers in turn. Then he gently set his hands to Rey’s hips and turned her to face southwest, and Rey caught her breath on an awed gasp.

The southern end of Loch Lomond lay before them, and from their vantage point, the little islands which dotted it for much of its length appeared to be lined up in a perfectly straight line, running from southwest to northeast. The water of the loch was a pure, deep blue, several shades darker than the soft blue of the sky above them. Rey’s jaw continued to hang open in awe as she leaned back against Ben’s chest, soaking in the view.

Ben wound his arms more securely around Rey’s waist and spoke quietly into her ear. “We’re standing directly over the Highland Boundary Fault right now, Rey. It begins,” he took one of her hands in his and pointed it directly in front of them, “southwest of here, on the Isle of Arran. It comes onshore at Helensburgh, runs through those little islands all in a line in Loch Lomond, under our feet, and hits the North Sea many, many miles directly behind us, at Stonehaven.”

Rey reached down to pull Ben’s arm across her waist even more snugly, and took the hand that had been pointing with hers and held it over her heart. Ben tucked her head under his chin and gazed across the loch with her, quietly and patiently waiting for Rey to look her fill.

After several minutes, Rey took a deep breath and began to sing, quietly and somewhat off-key.

_The rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum_

_With the words “I love you” rolling off my tongue_

_Never will I roam, for I know my place is home_

_Where the ocean meets the sky I’ll be sailing_

***

A steep descent off of Conic Hill brought Rey and Ben to another small forested area. They continued to descend down through the trees until they were abruptly decanted into the town center of Balmaha, directly behind the Visitors Center. Rey had been here before, one weekend when she and Ben had borrowed Tai’s car to do a bit of sightseeing, and she’d been looking forward to a meal at the Oak Tree Inn for _days_ in the lead-up to this trip. Right on cue, Rey’s stomach growled. “Lunchtime!” she declared brightly.

The Oak Tree Inn was almost within sight of where they’d popped out of the woods into the town, and within minutes Rey was collapsing into her chair at their table with a satisfied sigh. “Eight miles down,” Ben said, as he settled into his own chair across from her. “How are you feeling?”

“Good!” Rey replied. “Accomplished. Energized.” She restlessly tapped her booted feet on the floor in illustration. “Hungry. But after I eat, these next seven miles are going _down_.”

“Attagirl.” Ben high-fived her across the table, just as a server walked up to take their orders. 

Sometime later, as Rey was devouring a massive plate of macaroni and cheese with garlic ciabatta and Ben was digging into an equally massive plate of steak and mushroom pie, she paused to reflect a bit over the last day and a half. “Oak Tree Inn, Beech Tree Inn. I’m beginning to sense a theme here,” she mused.

Ben nodded agreement as he swallowed a bite of his food. “Seems so.” Another thought seemed to occur to him. “Do you realize, since we went up Conic Hill today, we’ve already hit a higher elevation than we did at any point on Hadrian’s Wall?”

Rey’s eyes widened a bit. “No, I hadn’t realized. That’s wild!” She took another bite of mac and cheese, considering. “Was this your second time up Conic Hill today?”

“Third.”

She smirked. “Show-off. Will the rest of today be more of your stomping grounds?”

“Not really. I’ve been up Ben Lomond before, but I drove there, with Tai. I’ve kept meaning to take you there, to climb it, but the conditions have never been quite right. You’ll get to see it today and tomorrow, at least. Anyway, we won’t be on any more bits of the West Highland Way I’ve seen before until we get to Crianlarich in a couple days.”

Rey and Ben lingered at the Oak Tree Inn for a little over an hour, resting their legs in preparation for the second, more challenging half of the day. Balmaha ordinarily got a lot of tourists and day-trippers, bussed in from Glasgow or Edinburgh, but being both a Sunday and a religious holiday, the tour coaches had stayed home and the town was quiet. Rey therefore felt no compunction for their lengthy lunch break, as they shared a raspberry tart and pieces of her chocolate bunny for dessert. But at length they finally refilled their water bottles and jointly declared themselves ready to continue with the day.

***

After leaving Balmaha, the West Highland Way followed the shore of the loch for a little over a mile before briefly getting onto a paved road through the hamlet of Milarrochy. After passing through Milarrochy, the trail deviated away from the shore, eventually crossing the road again and following it through Cashell, where there was a commercial campsite. After passing through Cashell the trail crossed the road yet again and entered another forested area, where it gently dipped and rose in elevation as it approached Sallochy.

While she and Ben were still in the early planning stages of this trip, Rey had read multiple online walk diaries by other people who’d done the trail, and they were all in agreement about one thing: the Loch Lomond section of the West Highland Way was harder than it looked on the map and was not to be underestimated. That had been one of the reasons for her nervousness earlier in the day – not only was this a long day, it was also meant to be a somewhat challenging one. 

_“Not too bad so far,”_ Rey thought to herself as the trail brought them near the loch again, almost onto the beach itself. At the far end of the beach, they reached Sallochy Campsite, another commercial campsite with attractive pitches near the shore. Rey was reflecting that they should bring Ben’s tent if they ever came this way again, when they reached the north end of the campsite and she saw the stairs.

 _Stairs_. Wooden steps had been installed to ease the steep pull out of the campsite, and Rey climbed them, internally groaning the whole way up. Clearly they were getting to the hard part, now.

The undulations in the path, which had been gentle when they left Balmaha, got steadily more pronounced as Rey and Ben continued along the shore of Loch Lomond. About half a mile after Sallochy they reached a parking area, but they tacitly agreed to press on rather than stop for a break. The trail deviated away from the shore again, staying in a more-or-less straight line across Ross Point, a headland which jutted out into the loch. After traversing the point, the shore came back to meet them, and they had their first close-up view of the Loch Lomond Munros: Ben Lomond ahead of them, and the Arrochar Alps on the west side of the loch. It was getting on for late afternoon by this point, and the sunlight was shining quite prettily on the hills and the loch.

Rey paused to admire the view and take a few pictures, while Ben re-tied a bootlace that had come loose. “It’s lovely,” she pronounced.

“It is,” Ben agreed, resting a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Rey winced a little as she shuffled her feet into motion. They’d held up well throughout the day, but the numerous short climbs and drops were beginning to tell on her body. This wasn’t like Hadrian’s Wall, which also had its fair share of elevation change, but doled out those elevation changes in a much more measured fashion. She fancied that the terrain of Hadrian’s Wall would have been suited to wild ponies; the elevation changes along Loch Lomond were more suited to mountain goats.

“Not far now,” Ben said. “A bit less than two miles, and we’ll be in Rowardennan.”

Only a few minutes after they started walking again, they rounded a corner in the path and were confronted with another steep climb. Rey let out an expletive, almost involuntarily. After looking balefully up at the climb for several fraught moments, she grumbled, “Well, it’s not going to climb itself,” and trudged on, with Ben close behind her.

***

After what felt like the longest two miles of her life, Rey and Ben arrived at the SYHA hostel in Rowardennan, tired and sore but feeling accomplished. They’d done a fifteen-mile day, over a modest mountain and along the rocky shore of the loch, and Rey was feeling pretty damn proud of herself.

Her good mood was dampened slightly when they checked in. Rowardennan also had a small hotel, but it hadn’t yet opened for the season, meaning that this hostel was their only accommodation option. And it only had single-sex dorm rooms. She and Ben would be sleeping even further apart tonight; her in an all-female dorm, him in an all-male one.

 _“Feels a bit antiquated,”_ she thought as she received her bed assignment. _“What about any trans people who might be staying here? What about families with kids?”_

She and Ben had decided ahead of time to cook their own dinner in the hostel kitchen tonight, so after getting their separate room assignments and agreeing to meet in the kitchen in an hour, Rey set off to get situated and showered.

The hostel at least had well-appointed shower rooms, and Rey shivered luxuriantly as the hot water eased her sore muscles and washed away fifteen miles’ worth of sweat and grit. She hissed a little as the water found a slightly raw spot on her foot, stinging her. She’d have to put some Compeed on that before they set off tomorrow.

Rey’s spirits brightened a little as the thought about the day that lay before them. The next day was a short day, only seven miles further up the loch to Inversnaid, and she and Ben would be staying in a private room at last. Rey’s cheeks heated a little at the thought and she shivered again, this time in anticipation.

Shower completed, Rey dried off with the towel she brought on all her hiking trips, dressed in clean clothes, returned to her dormitory to hang up her worn clothes to air out, and made her way to the hostel kitchen. Ben was already there, assembling the ingredients for spaghetti bolognese and looking somewhat damp. Rey eyed his hair and reached up a hand to touch it. Her fingers came away not just damp, but wet. A drop of water dripped from her fingertips to the floor. She raised her eyebrows at Ben in question.

“I didn’t bring my own towel, and the hostel doesn’t have any for rent,” Ben said by way of slightly chagrined explanation. “I had to drip-dry.”

Rey burst into helpless laughter, clutching the counter edge as she gasped for breath in between peals of hilarity. Ben responded by suddenly and deliberately enfolding her into a bear-hug, dampening her clothes as she shrieked with continued laughter and indignation and struggled to escape his grasp.

After several moments Ben let go of her, grinning down at her before returning to his meal prep. “Oh Ben, I’d have let you borrow mine,” Rey said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“’S’okay,” Ben replied, measuring out two handfuls of dried spaghetti and dropping them into a pot of boiling water. He raised a sidelong eyebrow at her. “I like having opportunities to get you wet.”

After dinner, Rey and Ben ventured down to the shore. The hostel had its own jetty, which served some of the small cruising boats Rey could see anchored further offshore. The sun had already disappeared behind the hills of the Arrochar Alps, but there was still plenty of light left. The air had grown chilly, but Ben and Rey lingered on the jetty for as long as they could, sitting huddled together near the edge, arms entwined, slowly working their way through the rest of Rey’s chocolate bunny. When sitting huddled side-by-side was no longer warm enough, Rey moved into Ben’s lap. He wore her favorite hoodie of his, the thick black one which dwarfed her slighter form whenever she had the opportunity to steal it. He nestled her into his body and laid his arms along hers to give her his warmth, and Rey continued to break off pieces of chocolate to pop into her mouth, and into his, over her shoulder. They watched the light fade and the stars come out until the chocolate bunny was gone and the cold finally chased them inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I took the low route to Balmaha when I did the West Highland Way, so the description of the Conic Hill section is based on the [WalkHighlands](https://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/lochlomond/drymen-rowardennan.shtml) walk description.
> 
> [Shitfaced Shakespeare](http://www.shitfacedshakespeare.com/) is a real thing! Special thanks to [emjee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryHeart/pseuds/emjee) for helping me decide what play the gang would see. And while we're here, a moment of silence for the 2020 Edinburgh Festival and Festival Fringe, both cancelled due to coronavirus.
> 
> The [SYHA hostel in Rowardennan](https://www.hostellingscotland.org.uk/hostels/rowardennan-lodge/) does actually have accommodation options other than single-sex dorms, but I needed to keep our lovebirds apart for an additional night for...um...narrative reasons.
> 
> Songs featured in this chapter: ["Loch Lomond"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3T_YM4UfDY) (Scottish traditional) and ["Rhythm of My Heart"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHRpWQOqe14) by Rod Stewart


	3. Day 3: Rowardennan to Inversnaid, 7 miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M-rated content ahoy, so note the updated tags! If you'd like to skip the smut, stop reading when you get to a long line of asterisks (*******) and pick up again when you get to another long line of asterisks. If you'd prefer to skip the BC discussion (it'll be pretty clear when it's coming), skip the remainder of the prologue. 
> 
> There is also a brief and oblique reference to child neglect near the very end of the chapter. If you'd like to skip that, stop reading at the sentence "But that was okay!" and pick up again a couple lines down with "When Rey emerged from the bathroom..."
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this almost-7K monstrosity! :D

_September (7 months ago)_

Rey staggered out of the ensuite and flopped facedown onto the bed in her B&B room, still clad only in her towel. She let out a noise that contained equal parts pain and relief. Her face and arms were sunburnt, her legs and back ached, her feet hurt, and at least two of her toenails were tingling in an ominous way. Cornwall in late summer was beautiful, but it was heavy work, and she was bone-weary.

After several minutes lying motionless on the bed, she extended her arms and pulled herself across it, to where her backpack lay with various contents spilling out. She found her phone and pulled up her group text with Jannah and Rose, to let them know she’d finished the day safely. That done, she pulled up Ben’s contact info, intending to send him some photos she’d taken that day, as had become her custom over the last few days as she progressed along the South West Coast Path. She paused with a hiss of pain as a cramp lanced through the arch of her left foot, and she quickly pressed her toes into the mattress to counteract it. When it subsided she regarded her phone again. It was nearly seven in the evening. Ben would likely be done with lectures for the day, and home. Rey’s thumb hovered over the iMessage button for a long moment, and then moved decisively to press the call button instead. Ben answered on the second ring.

“Hey!” He sounded pleased that she was calling him, but also a little surprised.

“Hey, Ben,” Rey croaked out. She was still lying facedown on the bed, with her mouth pressed partly into the mattress, and her voice emerged half-muffled.

“Everything okay?” She heard a door close in the background, and imagined him going into his room for privacy. It made her smile a little.

“Yeah. I’m just tired. And everything hurts.”

Ben made a sympathetic noise. “Tough day?”

“The toughest.” Rey laboriously rolled over onto her back, making incredibly undignified noises as she did so. “There are so many cliffs here, Ben. And the trail insists on climbing and descending every one. I mean, the views are amazing. But why can’t the path just stay up on the clifftops? Why does it insist on going down to every beach and cove?”

“To make sure you have all the best angles to take photos from?” Ben asked in a joking voice. Rey made a rude noise in response. “I’m only halfway kidding,” he continued. “Those photos you’ve been sending are amazing.”

“They’re only phone photos, Ben,” Rey said a little diffidently.

“Point stands. Also, you are badass for even attempting that trail, _mo chridhe_. I’ve been looking at where you are on Google Maps, and I’m not sure I could stand to go around every single one of those headlands, views or no.”

Rey let out a sound that was half acknowledgement, half general groan about the state of her life and her choices. The South West Coast Path was a very, very long trail which followed the coast of southwest England – followed in a very, very literal sense. No bend or dip in the topography was ignored; no isolated beach or desolate clifftop left unexplored. As she’d told Ben, the views were outstanding, but the slowness of her progress each day was positively agonizing. The first time she’d ever looked at a map of this trail, it had taken her only about ten minutes to realize that she would need to do it in stages, a little at a time over a number of years. Because a thru-hike would likely be a two-month commitment, at minimum. On this, her fourth trip to the area, she was attempting to complete the southwestern extremity of Cornwall, including Land’s End. She already felt completely spent on this, her third day out, and doubts about whether she could complete the remainder of the six-day itinerary she’d outlined for herself were creeping in.

As if he sensed the direction her thoughts were taking, Ben broke in. “Hey. You are amazing, and brave, and beautiful, and you’re gonna do this. You’re already doing it. Heck, you’ve already _done_ it, Rey.” 

Rey smiled and shifted across the mattress until her head rested on the pillows, still holding her towel around herself. “Thanks, Ben.” She sighed, doing her best to expel her lingering angst and worries with her exhaled breath. She could do this. _Of course_ she could. She’d been doing this kind of thing since she was ten years old; she knew her own abilities. 

But it was nice to hear the words out loud from time to time, from an external source. Her grandfather had been that for her for years; then Jannah and Rose, her friends ever since the first week of uni, had joined that chorus of affirmation. And now Ben was part of it, too. And Rey knew that she was that voice of affirmation for Ben too, when he needed it. With that in mind, she settled her phone more comfortably against her ear and asked him, “How’s school been this week?”

They spent the next several minutes talking about Ben’s lectures, and about how his doctoral project was taking shape. He was due to graduate the following June, which meant he’d be spending a lot of time conducting research projects and writing scholarly papers in the coming months. It sounded challenging, but Rey knew how passionate Ben was about archaeology. He was in his element with this, and he seemed to have it well in hand. And truthfully, she loved listening to him talk about the digs he’d taken part in, and interesting things he’d found in his readings.

Rey peered down the bed at her toes and grimaced. There was a bruise under one of her smaller toenails that hadn’t been there yesterday. She’d need to get that looked at when she saw her GP for her annual physical the following week. That thought reminded her of something she’d been meaning to discuss with Ben. She was a little nervous to bring it up, because it would mark a turning point in their relationship. But it was something she wanted – not just for them as a couple, but also for herself. A convenient lull in the conversation ensued, and Rey thought to herself, _“No time like the present.”_

“Hey Ben?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“I have an appointment with my GP next week, and I was thinking about discussing birth control options with her.”

A beat of silence passed, and when Ben spoke again, Rey got the sense that he was making an almighty effort to keep his voice perfectly neutral. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I was thinking maybe the implant? The one that goes in your upper arm? I don’t know if I’d remember to take a pill every day, so I was thinking something that I get once and is good for a few years would work well.” She paused for a moment, unconsciously fingering the edge of the towel where it wrapped over her chest. “Thoughts?”

“I…it…it’s entirely up to you, Rey.” There was another pause, and Rey could practically see Ben running a restless hand through his hair. “It’s your body. Whatever you want to do, it’s your decision.”

Rey nerved herself up. They were coming to the crux of the matter now. “What would you think of doing without condoms, if I got the implant?”

“I’d love to do without condoms, Rey,” Ben said with a slightly choked note in his voice. “But only if you want to, too. Don’t go on birth control just on my account, _mo chridhe_. If this is what you want, then I’m onboard. I’m _more_ than onboard. I’ll go get tested tomorrow, even, to make sure we’re all set. I mean, we should be. It had been a few years for me, before you, but I-” He was babbling now. Rey smiled into a corner of her towel, and then gently interrupted him.

_“Ben.”_

“Rey?”

“I’m sure this is what I want.”

Ben let out a long exhale. “Alright then.” There was another beat of quiet, during which Rey could faintly hear bedsprings creaking, as if to make way for a large body shifting position. When Ben spoke again his voice was husky, in a way which Rey had come to know well over the last few months. “I _really_ like the thought of doing without condoms, Rey.”

“Do you?” Rey murmured back, relaxing her hold on the towel and letting it fall away from her body. “Tell me how much.”

***

_Now_

They lingered in Rowardennan until late morning.

The majority of the people staying at the hostel were either West Highland Way hikers, like Rey and Ben, or there to climb hills – to climb one hill in particular.

Rowardennan sat at the foot of Ben Lomond, the most southerly of the Munros – Scottish mountains greater than 3,000 feet in height. It was a sprawling behemoth of a hill with no fewer than three separate ascent routes, which dominated the eastern shore of Loch Lomond. Rey and Ben would be in its shadow for much of the day today. They didn’t have time to climb all the way to the summit if they wanted to make Inversnaid before dusk, but when Rey mused over breakfast that it seemed a shame to be _right here_ and not have an opportunity to explore the hill, at least a little bit, Ben was quick to agree. So after breakfast, they stashed their backpacks at the hostel’s reception desk and set out to spend a merry couple of hours rambling around Ben Lomond’s lower slopes.

The sky was overcast with iron-grey clouds. But instead of looking threatening, all the dark sky did was make the greens, browns, and slate-blues of the hill more vivid and alive. When Rey and Ben cleared the trees which grew around the base of the mountain and turned to look back at Loch Lomond, the water was a flinty grey-blue, so different from the deep sapphire hue it had had under the sunshine on Conic Hill the previous day. When Rey looked further up the mountain, she could see snow. It was early spring by the northern hemisphere’s calendar, but the snow likely wouldn’t be completely gone from most of the Munro summits for a few months yet. She couldn’t see the top from here – the path she and Ben were on followed Ben Lomond’s relatively gentle southern slope and didn’t come within view of the summit for a while yet. But she knew the snow would be even deeper there; the climbers passing them outfitted in full winter gear definitely had the right of it.

“I want to come back and climb this properly sometime,” Rey announced as she and Ben descended back down through the trees. “In the summer maybe, when we won’t need ice axes,” she added, as another group of hillwalkers passed them, climbing upwards.

“Then we will,” Ben said.

As they reached the bottom of the hill and the small pavilion marking the trailhead, Rey exuberantly threw her arms wide and turned in a circle, head tipped skyward. “Oh, there’s so much to see, Ben! So much to do in this world! And I want to see and do it all!”

Ben caught one of her out-flung hands in his and, as if they’d choreographed it, Rey pirouetted into his arms. Her view of the overcast sky changed to a view of Ben’s face, alabaster-pale after a winter spent mostly indoors, brown eyes gazing down at her with a look of adoration that never failed to make Rey’s breath come short. She smiled toothily up at him and stood on her toes for a kiss, which Ben returned briefly but firmly.

They made the short walk back to the hostel to retrieve their backpacks, hand-in-hand. It was time to walk to Inversnaid.

***

The trail out of Rowardennan was on a broad, level track, and for a brief time Rey entertained the hope that this section wouldn’t be as bad as everyone said it was. Those hopes were dashed barely a mile into the day’s walk, when they got to the day’s first big climb and it began to rain. Rey and Ben were already dressed in full waterproofs, but they took a moment to secure their hoods over their heads, and raincovers over their backpacks, before tackling the climb.

The climb – a short, sharp ascent up a stony bluff, followed by an equally sharp descent down the other side – was to be the first of many. The trail closely hugged the rocky shore of Loch Lomond for the next three miles, following every small but jagged elevation change the Highland Boundary Fault had seen fit to incorporate into the shoreline. Rey could hardly take ten steps without having to climb over a boulder, or over a gigantic tree root, or up another steep bluff. The rain continued all the while, making the rocky steps carved into the bluffs slippery, and swelling the dozens of small streams which flowed off the mountain and into the loch, directly across their path. For a while Rey counted the streams as she hopped over the narrower ones and splashed across the wider ones, grateful for her waterproof gaiters. She stopped when she got her footing wrong while vaulting over one of the larger burns, and would have face-planted onto the gravel bank if Ben hadn’t been there to catch her. 

The trail was so narrow that they had to walk in single-file, both taking turns leading every thirty minutes. The numerous obstacles in their path meant that it was impossible to build any kind of momentum, and it took them well over two hours to travel three miles. Ben was in the lead when they got to a bend in the trail which would briefly take them uphill into a pine forest and away from the shore, and he halted and turned to speak to Rey behind him. “There’s a bothy just a little way ahead. Lunch stop?”

In addition to being fatigued and wet, Rey’s stomach had been gnawing with hunger for the last hour, so she quickly nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, please!”

They climbed gradually uphill, the pines providing some respite from the rain overhead and the trail widening and smoothing under their feet. Rey sighed gratefully in relief. Ben found the unmarked side trail which led to the bothy, and only a few minutes later they emerged into a clearing in the trees.

Bothies were Britain’s answer to Nordic wilderness huts and American trail shelters. Basic buildings meant for bare-bones accommodation and temporary shelter, they were typically free to use and maintained by volunteers. This was a relatively large one; a long, low stone building with skylights built into the roof. When Rey and Ben let themselves inside, she saw that there was a raised sleeping area at one end, a fireplace at the other, and a couple of mismatched tables and chairs against one wall, but no other furniture. Other hikers had also decided to take shelter from the rain here, and there were various individuals and groups scattered around the single long room, sitting on the floor or at the tables. Many of them looked up and hailed Ben and Rey in a friendly way when they walked in. Two sleeping bags lay unrolled on the sleeping platform – evidently a few people had already decided to call it quits for the day. Rey let out another sigh of relief when she saw a cheerful fire already burning in the fireplace.

She and Ben both shrugged out of their raincoats, and Rey took them to the purpose-built drying rack near the fireplace as Ben began preparing lunch. Rey added some additional wood to the fire for good measure – how to build a good and lasting fire was one of the many outdoors lessons learned from her grandfather – and returned to where Ben was sitting against the wall, patiently waiting for their meal to rehydrate. 

“Beef stroganoff okay?” he asked as Rey plopped down next to him, extending her tired legs out in front of her with a small groan.

“Beef stroganoff is perfect,” she replied. “And is there any hot water left for tea?”

“There is indeed,” Ben said, already rooting through his rucksack for teabags and two camping mugs. When he held them up triumphantly, Rey playfully hugged his arm and nuzzled her face into his shoulder, eyes closed.

“I love you.”

She felt Ben press a kiss into her hair. “I know.”

***

By the time they left the bothy forty-five minutes later, warmer and dryer than when they’d entered it, the rain had abated and a watery sun was tentatively peeking through the lingering clouds. The trail, once they rejoined it on its climb up into the trees, remained forgiving for a while. They reached the top of a modest ridge, with the ground on their left falling steeply away into the loch and the ground on their right continuing to climb up the northwestern side of Ben Lomond. For about a mile they were able to keep up a good pace, only having to negotiate a very occasional boulder in their path. But then the trail swooped back down to the shoreline and the difficult conditions resumed – boulders, tree roots, abrupt rises and falls in elevation, and the occasional fallen tree to be climbed over.

Rey did her best to remain cheery, despite the growing soreness in her legs and feet. They only had about two miles left to walk today; the clouds were continuing to lift; and although the terrain was difficult, the scenery was lovely. When they reached the tiny settlement of Cailness they encountered their first sandy lochside beach. Rey snapped a few quick photos of it, and of the Arrochar Alps across Loch Lomond, looking mystical and otherworldly in the weak sunshine with their lingering dustings of snow.

For the final miles Rey simply concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Just when she was beginning to fear that she and Ben would never reach Inversnaid, and instead were condemned to continue trekking up the eastern shore of Loch Lomond for all eternity like some version of purgatory tailor-made specifically for them, she heard the sound of a waterfall. In almost the same moment she and Ben rounded a sharp turn in the trail, and there it was: the Snaid Burn, from which Inversnaid took its name, tumbling over boulders and down into a pool before flowing into Loch Lomond.

There was a footbridge across the falls (although Rey would not have been surprised in the least if they’d been expected to ford the top of the waterfall, given everything else this day had thrown at them), and in short order the trail deposited them into the parking lot of the Inversnaid Hotel. There was a wooden gate separating the trail from the parking lot, and a placard attached to the gate cheerfully declared _“YOU DESERVE AN ICE CREAM”_ in bold print, with a photo of a Cornetto helpfully attached in illustration.

Rey tapped her hand against the placard as she passed through the gate. “It is bloody well correct about that.”

“Agreed,” Ben said, looking fatigued and supremely ready to sit down for a good long while. “What do you think, _mo chridhe_? Early dinner here, and then we’ll call for a lift?” He gestured to another, smaller placard posted on the other side of the gate they’d just come through, listing the phone number of their accommodation for the evening – not the hotel, but a smaller establishment about half a mile up the road.

Rey considered for a moment. It was a bit early for dinner, and they’d had a late lunch as well. The alternative would be to eat later at their accommodation, which she knew had a modest bistro on the premises.

She also knew that it had a hot tub on the premises, which she’d been looking forward to enjoying for _ages_ , ever since she and Ben had reserved the booking.

And furthermore, she knew that she and Ben had a private room of their own tonight, for the first time since leaving Glasgow.

She regarded Ben for a moment. He was stretching his shoulders under his backpack straps, which expanded his upper body and made his unfairly broad chest look even broader. His thick black hair was still slightly damp from the earlier rain. As she watched, he rolled his head from side to side to stretch out his neck muscles, which put the side of his neck on full display and gave her the sudden urge to lick it.

_“Thirsty are we, Johnson?”_

To face facts, Rey knew she was probably going to want to jump Ben’s bones the moment they got to their room. And really, how realistic was it that she’d want to leave their room again at any point this evening, even for food? 

“Let’s eat here,” she said decisively.

***

After an early dinner of the Inversnaid Hotel’s fish and chips, eaten at one of its wooden picnic tables with a fantastic view across Loch Lomond to the Arrochar Alps, a van came to collect them and take them half a mile up a precipitously steep road to their accommodation.

Similar to the place they’d stayed in Drymen, the Inversnaid Bunkhouse was a converted church. It catered to visitors of all types, with a mixture of private rooms, shared rooms, and tent pitches. The private rooms were located in an outbuilding separate from the church itself, and as Rey and Ben made their way there after checking in, she looked around with satisfaction. It was a very pleasant spot, surrounded by pine trees and with views of the mountains. The hot tub was tucked in an out-of-the-way spot behind the main building, with signage directing anyone who wanted to use it to the front desk, to pay for a set amount of time.

Ben and Rey let themselves into their room. It was cozy room on the ground floor, with a double bed taking up much of the available space, framed by a large window at its head. A minifridge was crammed into one corner. The attached bathroom was small, with a toilet, a sink, and a shower that would be barely large enough for Ben to squeeze into. Any idle thoughts Rey may have had about how they might make creative use of this, the first shower stall in three days meant for their exclusive use, were quickly squashed.

No matter. There was a perfectly good bed to hand.

Rey unceremoniously dropped her backpack at the foot of the bed and shed her boots, gaiters, jacket, and overtrousers, leaving her in just a thin undershirt and leggings, and then moved into Ben’s arms, sighing a soft “Alone at last” and kissing him tenderly. She slowly wound her arms around his neck and traced his tongue with hers as he grasped her hips, holding her close to him and also massaging the muscles over her hipbones and lower back. Ben made a contented humming sound as he brought one hand up to trace her jaw and adjust the angle of her face, the better to kiss her breathless.

Liquid heat pooled in Rey’s belly, and the temptation was strong – oh so strong – to move the proceedings to the bed right then and there. But after a day like today – seven miles which had felt more like twenty – warming down their bodies needed to take precedence before all else if they wanted to be able to move tomorrow. Ben knew it too. Rey felt him just barely dip his fingertips into the waistband of her leggings, teasing the skin where her back met her ass but going no further.

After a final, lingering kiss, Rey pulled back with a sigh, unwinding her arms from around Ben’s neck and resting her hands on his chest. “Do you want to take the first shower while I go reserve us some hot tub time?”

Ben shook his head. “You shower first, sweetheart. I have a quick errand to run.” When Rey’s gaze turned quizzical, he only gave her a half-grin and brushed her nose with his. “For me to know and you to find out, _cariad_. Enjoy your shower!”

Rey’s shower was rapid, just long enough to wash off the day’s sweat and start the process of relaxing her muscles, and she had just finished shimmying into a one-piece swimsuit she’d brought along specifically for this overnight stop when Ben bounded back into the room. She caught sight of what looked like a cardboard takeout container in his hands, but he swiftly tucked it behind his back, that mischievous half-grin back on his face.

“For later. Off you go, _mo chridhe!_ The hot tub’s up and running for us. I’ll meet you there in five.”

Rey smirked. “Fine, Gandalf. Keep your secrets.” She fished her towel out of her backpack, slipped her feet into her flip-flops, and sauntered out the door, swaying her hips a little more than was probably _strictly_ necessary.

True to Ben’s word, the hot tub was uncovered and waiting, and after stowing her towel by the steps, Rey eased into it with a sigh. She groaned as her leg and back muscles relaxed even further, responding luxuriantly to the hot water. She dipped her head under the water once, and then blinked her eyes open to look around.

Inversnaid was a small place, and the surroundings were quiet. Birds chattered up in the trees, and the sun, mostly free of the clouds at last, was tinting everything warm shades of orange-gold as the late afternoon began to deepen into evening. Rey sank into the water up to her chin and just listened to the quiet sounds of Mother Nature beginning to wind up her day.

Footsteps alerted her to Ben’s approach, and she sat up in the hot tub again as he stowed a towel next to hers – taken from their tiny ensuite, if she wasn’t mistaken – and climbed in, clad in a pair of dark red swim trunks.

Ben groaned in much the same way Rey had done as the heated water enveloped his body, and then promptly lolled against her, his back to her front, and the back of his head resting against her sternum. Rey giggled as she lightly ran her fingernails over Ben’s scalp, making him give an involuntary shiver. Then her hands moved down to his neck and shoulders, and she began to massage the muscles there. Ben sighed and relaxed more fully against her, allowing his long legs to float up through the water.

Rey still felt pleasant anticipation of where this evening would inevitably lead tingling in her lower belly, but a feeling of tenderness crept in to nestle alongside it. The utterly trusting way that Ben rested his body against hers made her feel incredibly loved, and also fiercely protective of him. She felt a bit like a fairytale maiden, taming a dragon or a unicorn. She continued to rub the areas of his neck and back that she could reach, gently but firmly digging her fingertips into the base of his skull to help release the tension there. Ben breathed in and out deeply as she did so.

When Ben had had his fill, he moved next to Rey, in order take care of her sore areas in turn. He pulled Rey’s left foot into his lap and began to massage it under the water, working methodically: First squeezing the heel, then pressing his knuckles into the arch, then squeezing and pressing on the ball of her foot, and finally working on her toes, encouraging tendons and ligaments to release and drawing relieved groans from Rey. When he finished with her left foot he started on her right, and Rey let her head and neck loll back over the side of the hot tub, looking up at the dusky sky with half-lidded eyes as Ben continued to do absolutely sinful things to all the muscles and bones in her feet.

After several minutes, Ben finished with Rey’s other foot and gently pulled on her calf, pulling her through the water until she ended up in his lap, reclining against his chest in much the same way that he’d been reclining against hers earlier. Rey wriggled more firmly against him with a contented sigh, and then wriggled again mischievously when her bottom came to rest squarely between Ben’s spread thighs. Ben inhaled a sharp breath through his nose but didn’t stop her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and another around her waist as Rey continued to shift her lower body just so, teasing him through his swim trunks. Ben’s arms and hands began to roam, one grazing the underside of a breast, the other coming to rest over her lower abdomen, _so close_ to where she wanted him. Ben’s hand nearly spanned the width of her hipbones, and Rey couldn’t suppress a needy whimper as he applied just a little pressure there. Ben brought his lips to hers and swallowed the whimper, kissing her in that leisurely yet thorough way of his that she absolutely adored.

“Let’s go back to the room?” Rey breathed against his lips when they finally came up for air.

“You always have the best ideas, sweetheart,” Ben breathed back.

As one, they scrambled out of the hot tub, grabbed their towels, and ran back to their room as quickly as their sandaled feet could take them.

*******

As Ben closed and locked the door behind them, Rey crossed the small room to twitch the curtains closed over the window. By the time she turned around, Ben had already divested himself of his swim trunks and was standing by the foot of the bed in all his nude glory, his cock fully and proudly erect.

Rey raised a coquettish eyebrow. “Eager, are we?”

Ben raised an eyebrow in return and gestured to the evidence with one hand, as he flung his towel across the duvet with the other. “As you see.”

Rey couldn’t resist continuing the coquette act with a miniature striptease, making a show of dropping her own towel to the floor and slowly pulling the swimsuit straps off her shoulders and peeling it down and off her body. Then she daintily stepped out of it and unhurriedly arranged herself on the bed, reclining against the pillows, legs slightly parted, one straight out in front of her and the other bent up at the knee. She raised an eyebrow at Ben. “Well? Come here, then.”

With a low growl Ben prowled to the head of the bed and pounced on her, catching his weight on his elbows and knees, deftly hooking Rey’s bent knee around his hip and interrupting her mid-giggle to plunder her mouth with his tongue. Rey’s last coherent thought was that he reminded her of a panther, with his black hair and his powerful frame that could move so lightly and lithely. And then she was being swept under, by the sensations of his tongue curling around hers and his hands touching her everywhere – her face, her breasts, her hips, her ass, and finally, _finally_ , where she needed him most.

Three days of forced abstinence had made her needy, wound tight as a spring, and she mewled loudly as his skillful fingers swirled around her clit, dipped between her folds, and swirled her clit again, quickly finding the pressure and rhythm he knew she liked best. She was already soaking wet, and Ben let out a pleased grunt to find her so. “Is this all for me, sweetheart?” he breathed huskily into her ear.

Rey, normally able to give as good as she got when it came to bedroom talk, could only gasp and cry out in a thready voice she barely recognized as her own, “ _Yes_ , Ben. Ben, _please!_ ”

With a last kiss to her jawline, Ben knelt upright between Rey’s legs and, with a hand curled around each thigh, yanked her downward so that she lay flat on the mattress beneath him. Then he arranged them so that his knees were beneath her hips, and her knees were hooked over his thighs. He pumped himself once and then slowly dragged his glans between her labia, gathering up her wetness and prompting more. “ _Please_ , Ben, no more teasing!” Rey moaned.

Ben leaned down for a messy kiss as he lined himself up, murmuring “As you wish, my love,” against her lips.

As he began to push forward, Rey’s eyes snapped wide open and her jaw fell slack. She’d thought she knew what it was to be pent up. Her relationship with Ben was long-distance, for heaven’s sake; they often went weeks at a time without having anything more than phone sex. But evidently sleeping _near_ each other, but unable to sleep _with_ each other, for the last two nights, had had a more profound effect on her body than she’d ever _dreamed_ it would. 

Because she was going to come, just from this. 

She was going to come before he was even fully inside her.

Ben’s face took on a mixture of surprise and deeply masculine pride as he felt Rey’s inner walls begin to clench around him. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and her back arched almost violently off the bed, and one of Ben’s arms automatically wrapped beneath her shoulder blades to support her. Rey cried out incoherently and clawed at Ben’s shoulders as he finally hilted inside her, and the hand he’d been using to guide his cock moved just slightly upward to press rhythmically on her clit, helping her ride out her orgasm.

An eternity – seconds, minutes, hours – later, Rey finally relaxed back onto the bed with a voluptuous sigh and a blissed-out smile. Ben grinned down at her, gently smoothing a stray lock of her hair away from her face. “Really?”

Rey was already pleasantly flushed from the tips of her ears to the tops of her breasts, but she reddened a little more at Ben’s obvious preening and playfully smacked his bicep. “Alright, O Smug One.” She folded her hands beneath her head in an attitude of haughty expectation, which made his gaze drop irresistibly to her breasts, just as she’d known it would. “Your move.”

Ben kissed her again, smiling wickedly against her lips, and then hooked his elbows under her knees to hoist them up onto his shoulders. He nipped at her ear and then breathed a soft question into it: “Alright?”

She breathed an answer into his ear in turn: “Yes.”

Ben gave a couple of slow, experimental thrusts, and then began to gradually increase his speed. Rey ran her fingers through his hair, and he moaned as he settled into his pace. Rey sighed, reveling in the way he filled her so completely, delighting in his every breath and groan, in every kiss he pressed haphazardly to her cheek, her ear, her hairline. As the minutes passed, her afterglow gradually faded and his thrusts became faster, harder, and more desperate. Rey found herself rising again and she groaned, fisting her hands in the sheets to either side of her head. Ben snaked a hand between their bodies and began stroking her clit again. “Can you come again for me, Rey?”

Rey made a high keening noise, neither an affirmative nor a denial, and Ben redoubled his efforts, twisting his hand around just enough to press the heel of his palm into her pubic bone. Rey let out a breathy cry.

Ben’s thrusts were becoming irregular and desperate now, as he neared his own peak. Something Rey had learned about Ben since they met was that he only ever cursed during sex, and he did so now, a torrent of love words mixed with profanity pouring out of his mouth. “Fuck Rey, you feel so fucking good, love you so fucking much, I’m gonna come, fuck, REY!”

The first hot rush of his spend inside her finally sent Rey over the edge, and she shrieked, back curving and toes curling somewhere behind Ben’s head as she came a second time, her body’s pulsations drawing more of Ben’s pleasure out of him in turn. He groaned and cursed, grinding reflexively against her, finally withdrawing the hand that had been busy between them to entangle his fingers with Rey’s beside her head.

They gradually came down together, covered in a fine sheen of sweat and breathing hard. Ben settled more heavily on top of Rey, muscles finally giving out after the day’s many exertions.

As the endorphins wore off and Rey returned to her body, so too did she return to her own lingering aches and pains from their day of hiking. And now, in addition to those, the effects of being bent almost double underneath Ben’s not-inconsiderable weight were beginning to tell. As if on cue, her right hip gave a sharp twang of cramp.

“Ow.”

“Shit.” Rey mentally amended her assessment of Ben’s use of profanity to “during and immediately after sex.” Ben scrambled to move his weight off of her, but considering that they were still entangled at no fewer than four separate points of contact, the only effect was to jostle both of their sore bodies more.

“Ah!”

“Shit! Sorry, let me just…” Ben gingerly eased Rey’s right leg off his shoulder, gently extending it out on the mattress and briefly but firmly squeezing her hip joint to help ease the cramp. Then he gently allowed himself to slip out of her body, before moving her left leg off his other shoulder and squeezing that hip in turn. Then he sat back on his heels, and Rey saw him shiver a little as his gaze dropped between her legs, looking at the mess he’d left there. She blessed his forethought for the towel beneath her.

He would have moved to clean her up, but Rey forestalled him, holding her arms out to him. “Come here.”

*******

Ben flowed into her embrace, moving a little to the side so that he lay alongside her on his stomach, and gathered her flush against him with an arm across her midsection. His face came to rest in the hollow of her neck and shoulder, and Rey kissed him softly on the bridge of his nose.

In a minute she’d get up and pee. She _would_. As soon as she felt like she could use her legs again. But in the meantime she meant to enjoy Ben’s naked warmth cuddled up next to her, his arm flung across her waist, the heel of his hand digging into her hip joint, massaging away the remnants of cramp.

Then Rey’s stomach growled. Loudly. And after a beat, Ben burst out laughing.

Rey groaned and covered her face with her hands. Trust her stomach to ruin the afterglow. But behind her hands, she was laughing too. Much like his true smiles, Ben’s true laughter was a rare and precious thing, and Rey was pleased to have been the cause, no matter how embarrassed she might also be. After a moment Ben gently moved Rey’s hands away from her face and smiled down at her before kissing her sweetly and helping her sit up again. 

Rey grabbed a pair of clean underwear and a tank top, and then hustled into the bathroom to use the toilet and wash her hands and face. As she did so, she started to consider what to do about food for the remainder of the evening. Her stomach’s growl meant that their earlier meal of fish and chips had been too early after all, and she had no idea what time the bistro closed. It might even be closed already. But that was okay! She had things in her backpack that she could snack on, and there was still plenty of tea; it would be fine. 

She’d gone to bed hungry before.

But she didn’t like it. It reminded her too much of things she’d rather not remember, from her early childhood, before Grandpa got custody of her.

But it was okay. This was not like that. It was fine.

When Rey emerged from the bathroom, Ben had donned a pair of tracksuit bottoms and retrieved the cardboard container she’d seen earlier from…somewhere. The minifridge, she supposed. He’d also whisked away the soiled towel, although she’d hazard a guess that it was somewhere nearby, in case they wanted to make use of it again before the night was out.

Ben ostentatiously opened the box. Rey saw that her initial guess had been right and it was, in fact, a carryout container. And inside it was what had to be the fanciest cheese and fruit spread the bistro had on offer. She saw at least five different varieties of fruit – berries, grapes, slices of melon, and more – and at least seven different cheeses, along with crackers and bread to spread it all on.

Rey’s face worked for a moment. Then she flowed into Ben’s lap where he sat cross-legged on the bed, curling into him with her arms around his waist and her face pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders in return, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. “I love you,” he murmured softly.

Rey sniffled once and hugged him more tightly. When she looked up at him, her eyes were teary, but she was smiling. “I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief PSA from your friendly neighborhood PA-in-training: Pee after sex, folx!


	4. Day 4: Inversnaid to Crianlarich, 13 miles

_October (6 months ago)_

Scotland in autumn was orange and blue.

The morning mist that gradually burned away as they drove north was a muted, cloudy blue. The heather that still bloomed on some of the hillsides was a drab violet, shot through with tinges of woad. The sky above them, perfectly and brilliantly clear, was a sparkling sapphire that practically crackled with the promise of winter.

The sun, never climbing quite as high in the sky or lingering quite as long as it had the day before, was a ruddy bronze, casting a warm orange light on the red and gold leaves, here still clinging to the trees, there floating down to meet the earth. The red deer, growing heedless and bold in their all-encompassing need to mate before winter set in, strode out proudly in the russet-orange coats which gave them their name.

After research, deliberation, and some advice from Ben and Tai, Rey had chosen Ben Chonzie to be her first Munro. As Ben drove them fifty-odd miles north-northeast of Glasgow into the county of Perth and Kinross, Rey gazed out the windows and windscreen in wonderment and delight. At this tipping point of the year, the light was still bright enough to sharpen everything into crystal-clear focus, yet just dull enough to give everything a slight air of unreality, as if she had wandered into a painting, or a dream.

As they drove further into the hills, and the mountains around them grew higher and more rugged, Rey shivered a little in anticipation and awe. The landscape made her feel very small, in a comforting way. As if it were a guardian, cradling her child-self in its arms, whispering power and assurance.

They parked the car in a tiny village just north of Comrie, near the base of Ben Chonzie where it rose out of the surrounding moorland. Rey had chosen this hill for its purported gentleness and ease of ascent, and those promises were borne out – only a little over two hours after leaving the car, she and Ben were at the summit, 3,054 feet up, barely out of breath after the steady but smooth climb. She’d also chosen this hill because it was the highest point for many miles around, and as she gazed around, she congratulated herself for that decision. The clear weather was holding, and she could see all the way down Glen Turret to their southeast, and to the River Almond flowing past them to the north. The faintest dusting of snow crunched under her boots as she slowly pivoted around, taking in the views. A mountain hare, its fur already beginning to whiten in anticipation of the upcoming season, bounded past on the slope below. Somewhere out of sight, a stag bellowed.

In his daypack, Ben had carried up two sturdy mugs and a Thermos of tea, still reasonably hot. They toasted Rey’s first Munro with Earl Grey and a cheeky splash from an airplane bottle of Famous Grouse. It was cold at the summit, and they stood close, exhaled clouds of breath mingling and floating away together as Ben murmured his pride and admiration and Rey murmured her gratitude and exhilaration.

On the way back to Glasgow they stopped in Stirling, taking some time to wander the narrow streets of this town which felt far more medieval than cosmopolitan Glasgow or artsy Edinburgh. Situated on the geological point where the highlands met the lowlands, Stirling was built on steeply sloping ground above the deep and winding River Forth, and on this crystal-clear autumn day it had the air of a parchment manuscript come to life.

Ben talked about the city’s history and its pivotal role in the Scottish Wars for Independence as he and Rey wandered around Stirling Castle, their speedy entry having been secured by Ben’s Historic Scotland member card. As they gazed down onto the flat plain south of the city from the high castle walls, he described an archaeological dig that had taken place there to commemorate the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn, and which he’d gotten to participate in.

Rey linked her arm through Ben’s and leaned comfortably against him as he gesticulated with his other arm, describing the two days of the battle, where historians and archaeologists thought it was likely fought based on the finds from that dig, and the day of the dig itself, which he counted as one of his favorite days of his archaeological career so far. Ben was at his most talkative and animated when discussing archaeology and history, and Rey relaxed into his words, admiring the picture they painted. 

She gazed out over the landscape, listening to Ben’s smooth baritone voice and watching the oranges and blues of the earth and sky deepen with the advancing afternoon, and thought that there was nowhere she’d rather be than here.

***

_Now_

_“I’d rather be anywhere but here.”_

The thought was a recurrent refrain to Rey’s thoughts as she and Ben struggled through the morning, continuing their trek up the eastern shore of Loch Lomond. 

A staff member had driven them and a few other West Highland Way hikers back down to the trail after breakfast, and it had immediately slapped them in the face with a steep climb up a rocky bluff, over uneven and moss-covered rocks. All of yesterday’s obstacles – the boulders, the fallen trees and tree roots, and the abrupt rises and falls in the terrain – were back with a vengeance. 

And to make matters even more challenging, the weather had taken an ironic turn. Where the previous three days had been somewhat chilly, today the temperature was unseasonably warm. Verging on hot, even. And the air near the loch shore, which the trail continued to hug as it travelled northward, was humid. This made the slog up the final miles of Loch Lomond a grinding, sweaty, grim-faced affair that Rey was thoroughly ready to have done with. _“If you’re going to make the air this hot, you could at least have the decency to show your face,”_ Rey silently grumbled up at the sun. But the sun stayed stubbornly veiled behind clouds the color of dirty cotton, doing nothing to improve the smothering atmosphere.

The trail had narrowed enough to necessitate single-file walking again, and by tacit agreement Rey stayed in the lead, setting their pace. Occasionally, at convenient bends and elevation changes in the trail, she looked over her shoulder at Ben with growing worry. Rey had a surprisingly high heat-tolerance for an Englishwoman, so while she didn’t find the overwarm and muggy air particularly pleasant, they weren’t debilitating. 

But Ben was suffering. Although he kept trudging onward with determined stoicism, it was all too plain to see. His shoulder-length hair was tied up and back, and he’d tied one of his extra undershirts around his forehead as an improvised sweat-rag early on in the day, but his face was flushed bright red and the white T-shirt he wore was saturated with sweat almost down to the hem. She asked him twice if he needed a break, and both times he shook his head and waved her onward. So they kept trekking doggedly on.

They’d been encountering boulders, larger than yesterday, which they needed to clamber and climb over at regular intervals. But about two hours after leaving Inversnaid, they got to one in a class of its own. The top of it was about level with Rey’s hips, and it completely blocked the path with no way around it – the right-hand side of the path abutted a vertical escarpment, and the left-hand side ran rapidly downslope toward the loch, littered with more rocks of uncertain stability. And immediately ahead the boulder, there was a _steep_ drop-off in the path. Rey cautiously looked over the edge and estimated that if she were to cling to the boulder with her fingertips, her feet would dangle a good two feet off the ground.

She spoke her frustration aloud this time: “You have _got_ to be taking the piss.”

Ben caught up to her, looked over the edge of the boulder, and huffed an incredulous breath. He looked around, seemingly looking for an alternate route; finding none, he blew out his cheeks in exasperation. Finally he nodded to himself and began to unsling his backpack. “I’ll go first. Hang on just a minute, _mo leannan_.”

“Okay.” Rey watched a little nervously as Ben set his backpack down and crouched at the edge of the rock, taking a good handhold in a large crack there. Then, with catlike grace and fluidity, he vaulted down onto the path below. 

Rey released the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding, and handed Ben’s backpack down to him, followed by her own. Then she sat at the edge of the rock, and with somewhat less grace than Ben had shown, slid down it and into his waiting arms. As she slid down his body, she felt that it was radiating heat and sodden with sweat. She took Ben’s face between her hands, and in a tone of voice that brooked no argument said, “We’re stopping at the next beach we come to.” Ben nodded wordlessly.

***

Thankfully the next lochside beach was only half a mile further on, on a point of land which bulged out into Loch Lomond. The loch itself was getting narrower as they neared its northern tip, and it looked to Rey like a reasonably strong swimmer could get to the western shore from here without much trouble.

The beach was in a very pleasant spot, broad and sandy and shaded with oak trees, with a small stream flowing into the loch alongside it. Ben sat down heavily in the sand, and Rey busied herself with getting both of them cooled down. She unwound Ben’s makeshift sweat-rag and carried it to the water’s edge, swishing it vigorously to rinse out the sweat, then again to saturate it with clean loch water, ice-cold from the snowmelt coming off the surrounding hills. She took the opportunity to splash her own face, as well as the back of her neck, shivering a little as the water snaked down her back underneath her black tank top.

She returned to Ben, knelt down in the sand beside him, and began to wipe his face and the back of his neck with the wet cloth. Ben exhaled long and loud as the cold dampness began to take effect. Almost before Rey’s eyes, the high color in his cheeks receded and the faintly glassy look that had been in his eyes when he first sat down was replaced with alertness. After allowing her to minister to him for a few more moments, Ben gently took the cloth from Rey with a soft “Thank you,” and continued to wipe his face himself.

Leaving him to it, Rey gathered up their water bottles and ventured to the fast-flowing stream cutting a narrow channel through the sand several yards away. After topping them up and dropping a water purification tablet into each, she returned to where Ben was sitting. He had draped the damp cloth over the back of his neck and was now peeling an orange he’d appropriated from the breakfast spread at the bunkhouse that morning. When Rey settled beside him again, he a produced a second orange and held it out to her _._ She took it with a smile, and for the next several minutes they ate in silence, listening to the burble of the stream and gazing down the loch. The beach they were sitting on faced south, and the view down Loch Lomond, dotted with islands and bordered with hills, was spectacular.

When she was halfway done with her orange, Rey rummaged through her backpack for her trail map. She unfolded it and held so that both she and Ben, looking considerably more himself now, could see it. 

They both let out resigned sighs. 

They’d been hiking for more than two hours, and they were barely three miles into a thirteen-mile day. Rey traced a finger over the trail, outlined in red on her map, as she slowly chewed another orange segment. Soon they’d be leaving Loch Lomond behind, climbing out of the modest valley it lay in, up and over the eastern shoulder of a low hill at the loch’s north end called Cnap Mor. Then a slow descent into Glen Falloch. After they reached the bottom of the glen, they’d be following the River Falloch for most of the rest of the day to reach Crianlarich.

“Things should be getting very much easier soon,” Ben said, eyeing the contour lines on the map. “Once we get past Cnap Mor we’ll be done with all this bouldery nonsense.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Rey replied.

Ben grunted in agreement. Then he pointed to a campsite about four miles ahead of them. “Let’s see if we can get to Beinglas Farm before we stop again. Nice long break there, and then we’ll push on for Crianlarich.”

“Alright.” Rey popped the last orange segment into her mouth and folded the map away before looking pointedly at Ben. “But you’ll tell me if we need to stop before Beinglas?”

“Aye.” When Rey’s pointed gaze didn’t waver, he added somewhat contritely, “I promise. Besides,” he looked up at the sky, “I think the weather might be on our side again.” A breeze had indeed sprung up, sweeping away some of the clouds and cloying moisture in the air and making the temperature feel more bearable.

Rey relented. “Okay. Are you feeling better now, truly?”

“Truly. Thank you, Rey.” He took one of her hands in his and brought it up to his mouth for a courtly, but sincere, kiss. A note of vulnerability entered his voice as he said, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Rey took his own hand in hers and repeated the courtly by-play, kissing his knuckles with a smile. Then with a half smile, she quoted a line from a movie they’d watched with Tai the night before setting out on this hike: “We will take care of each other, won’t we?”

Ben returned the half-smile, squeezing Rey’s hand before releasing it. “Always.”

***

Soon after leaving the lochside beach, the West Highland Way began to climb – not the sharp, frenetic jumps they’d been dealing with for the last two days, but a true, steady climb that took them higher and higher above Loch Lomond. They passed another bothy, smaller than the one they’d eaten lunch in the previous day, and then a small village called Ardleish. Ardleish was where the trail bade farewell to Loch Lomond for good, as it swung decisively away from the loch to climb up and over the shoulder of Cnap Mor. On the way up they had to traverse a single lonely ladder-stile over a tumbledown stone wall, and Rey smiled at the reminder of their journey along Hadrian’s Wall the previous year. After crossing the stile she looked back for a final look at Loch Lomond and gave it a little wave. 

This area of the trail was surprisingly marshy for its elevation, and Rey and Ben carefully picked their way across, Rey leading so that she could test the ground with her trekking poles. Soon they left the marshy ground and entered a dense grove of trees, where the trail began its long and steady descent into Glen Falloch. Rey felt a wonderful sense of relief as she was finally able to establish a regular cadence to her walk for the first time in days. Ben seemed to feel the same – she could hear him humming somewhere behind her; a tune she couldn’t name.

At long last they popped out of the trees, and laid out before them on a wide swathe of flat ground was Beinglas Farm Campground. Rey gazed around with interest. Much like their accommodation in Inversnaid, this place catered to all sorts of travelers and budgets, with accommodation ranging from tent pitches to modest chalets. When she and Ben had been route-planning, they’d discussed staying here before deciding that it would be too long a day from Rowardennan and too short a day from Inversnaid. She was re-thinking that second conclusion now.

_“Only six more miles,”_ she reminded herself. _“Six more EASY miles. You can do this, Johnson.”_

“Let’s hit up the shop?” Ben suggested, gesturing to a building sitting near the center of the campground. Rey nodded and they walked over.

The campsite shop was well-stocked with food, camping supplies, and just about anything else a long-distance hiker or hillwalker could want. They bought sandwiches and snacks for lunch, and Rey also bought some extra Compeed plasters and pain tablets to add to her store of first-aid supplies. She and Ben settled wearily at a picnic table to eat, rest their legs, and prepare themselves for the second half of this trying day.

***

After demolishing two chicken sandwiches, a packet of salt and vinegar crisps, and a Cornetto, Rey got her second wind. She was even able to find a slight bounce in her step as she and Ben set out from Beinglas under a sky that was still mostly cloudy, but with a cooling breeze at their backs. She hummed with delight at the sensation of the cool wind on the back of her neck, stirring the sweat-damp tendrils of hair that had fallen out of her bun. The trail was on packed gravel, plenty wide enough for them to walk side-by-side, and they set a steady pace as it swung northeast, following the course of the river.

They crested a gentle rise as they left the campsite behind, and Rey gasped softly in awe at the view laid out in front of them: gently rolling mountains capped with lingering snow, rising above grassy moorland with the trail ribboning out ahead of them. With a jolt, Rey realized that this was the first time in several days that she could see where they were going. The extensive tree cover along Loch Lomond had produced a “green tunnel” effect that had made it nearly impossible to judge distance, or to anticipate challenges in the trail ahead. But now, with the landscape opened out ahead of her, Rey could literally see for miles and her sense of confidence and well-being grew tenfold.

They were gonna do this. _Of course_ they were. They were both tired and sore and ready to be done with this day, but _they were gonna do this_. They were going to finish the West Highland Way.

She hadn’t truly felt any doubt about that until that morning, when she’d been wishing herself anywhere but on that rocky, narrow, uneven trail, begging any deity who would listen to please let it end. And seeing Ben so drawn and drained and miserable from the heat had made her heart ache. If he’d asked her to get them out of there while they were sitting on that lochside beach – to get to Ardleish, get a boat across to Ardlui, and get them on a train back to Glasgow – she’d have done it.

But they’d made it through that crisis point. And the expansive, majestic vista laid out before them now was the reward. How sweet it was.

As they trekked northeast, Ben borrowed one of Rey’s poles to point out hills he’d climbed, and to vaguely sketch out the routes he’d taken up them. Her Munro-bagging experience was still limited to only Ben Chonzie – she hadn’t wanted to tackle more hills during the winter – but she flattered herself that she was developing a keen eye for mountains and mountain conditions.

“How many do you think we could do in a day?” she asked as they passed through the hamlet of Derrydarroch and crossed a small bridge over the river.

“Tai’s done all seven of the Crianlarich Munros in a single day before.” Ben looked at Rey keenly. “Planning the next trip already, _mo chridhe?_ ”

“Maybe just a little,” Rey replied with a grin. “This is so nice, after this morning. Makes me want to stay awhile. Explore a bit.” Ben smiled wordlessly at that, then laughed as she added, “I don’t know if I’m quite up to seven hills in a day yet, though.”

The West Highland Way continued close alongside the River Falloch for nearly a mile after Derrydarroch, before turning left to pass underneath a railway line and an adjacent road by way of a sheep creep – a low tunnel designed to be big enough for small animals to pass through, but too small for larger animals such as horses or cattle. Rey had to crouch uncomfortably low down to pass through it, her backpack lightly scraping along the ceiling. Ben practically had to crawl.

After emerging from the sheep creep, the trail climbed steeply but briefly uphill to reach a wire fence. They crossed the fence by way of a rickety wooden stile, and then walked along a level dirt-and-gravel track, high up on the hillside with the glen laid out down below them. Ben pointed to an area of forestry a little less than two miles ahead of them. “The turnoff to Crianlarich is just inside the treeline.” Rey let out a celebratory whoop, startling some sheep on the hillside up above them.

In what felt like no time at all, they reached the trees, and the wooden signpost that marked the approximate halfway point of the West Highland Way. To the left, the trail continued on toward Tyndrum. To the right, it descended back down to the floor of the glen to reach Crianlarich. Rey got out her phone to take a selfie of herself and Ben in front of the post. They both looked weary and bedraggled – hair coming loose, clothes dirty, boots covered in sand and mud – but Rey thought they also looked determined. Accomplished. Maybe even triumphant.

***

Some hours later, showered and full from dinner, Rey lay draped across Ben, tracing abstract patterns on his bare chest as they watched Pointless and shared the remnants of a bag of pick-and-mix she had brought from Durham. Their home for the night was a small cabin on the grounds of a B&B at the east end of Crianlarich – designed to look and feel rustic, but with full electricity, running water in the attached bathroom, and a small TV mounted high on the wall. They were both far too wiped out from the long and challenging day to even contemplate sex, but they were both clad for sleep in only their underwear – partly in deference to the lingering heat in the air and the lack of air conditioning, and partly out of a mutual desire for closeness. Ben twined his fingers through Rey’s loosened hair as they both shouted answers at the TV.

Gradually, as the sun dipped behind the mountains surrounding the little town, fatigue and exhaustion overtook Rey and she fell asleep, her head pillowed on Ben’s chest. When she woke sometime later to Ben gently shifting her off of him, it was fully dark and she was momentarily disoriented. Ben answered her muzzy sound of interrogation with a kiss to her forehead and several gentle nudges as he pulled the duvet out from underneath them. _Ah_. They’d both fallen asleep on top of the covers, and it had gotten cold as the night advanced. After Ben finished rearranging the blankets, he gathered Rey back into him, and she went willingly, snuggling contentedly into his embrace. Ben’s whispered “Go back to sleep, _mo chridhe_ ,” was almost unnecessary – Rey was already halfway back to dreaming, secure in his arms and in the embrace of the mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's final scene is inspired in part by [this bit of art](https://alexiela.tumblr.com/post/189999217072/happy-new-year-everyone-reylo-always-on-the) by Alexiela on Tumblr.
> 
> Rey and Ben's [accommodation in Crianlarich](http://www.ben-more.co.uk/accommodation).
> 
> The archaeological dig mentioned in the prologue is [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaIbxFgrk4U)! Watch the video in full-screen mode to get rid of the weird borders. Lanercost Priory, featured in chapter 6 of "the breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you," makes an appearance starting around the 18-minute mark.


	5. Day 5: Crianlarich to Bridge of Orchy, 13 miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, everyone! PA school has ramped back up in a big way, and my fic-writing time is once again at a premium. Here's another nice, long chapter to hopefully make up for it!
> 
> There is discussion of mental health difficulties in the prologue - mind the updated tags. If you'd prefer not to read such things, skip down to the "present-day" part. :)

_November (5 months ago)_

Rey’s train was about 45 minutes from Glasgow when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She looked away from the window – not that there was much to see anyway, the sun having set hours before – and pulled up her notifications. It was a text from Ben:

 ** _< Ben Solo_**: **_Hey, I’m so sorry but I’ve gotten held up at school. Tai is going to meet you at the station and I’ll be home as soon as I can. >_**

 ** _< Rey: Okay, thx for letting me know! See u soon _**♥ ** _>_**

She put her phone away and went back to idly gazing out the train window, letting her mind wander. She and Ben had been dating for six months now, and they had their routine down to a science. They spent every other weekend together, alternating between Durham and Glasgow. When it was Rey’s weekend to travel, she caught the late afternoon train immediately after finishing work on Friday, which got her to Glasgow a little after eight o’clock – in time for a late dinner at Ben and Tai’s flat and maybe a movie or a board game or just a good conversation over Tai’s good whisky before bedtime. Saturday and Sunday were hers and Ben’s to do with as they pleased, before she got the train back to Durham on Sunday evening.

It worked. It worked for both their lives, and both their schedules, and while they missed each other when they were apart, it made the time they were together all the more precious.

And while they hadn’t yet discussed the future much beyond where they were right now, Rey knew in her soul that this long-distance arrangement was temporary. Ben would be done with school next summer, and then their lives would have room to shift closer together. She’d even begun quietly investigating how her own life might shift – examining that idea that had taken root while they were in Edinburgh, seeing those students hard at work through the library windows…

She wondered what on earth could be keeping Ben at school so late this evening. But she smiled a little to herself, thinking that if she followed her idea through to conclusion, she might be finding out firsthand this time next year.

The train pulled in to Queen Street Station, and as Rey stepped down onto the platform, carry-on suitcase in tow, her eyes quickly found Tai. He was bundled up in a pea-coat, with a woolly hat covering his bald head and a scarf wound snugly around his neck. He greeted Rey with a smile, a hug, and a brotherly kiss to her cheek.

“Good tae see you, lass,” he said, hefting her suitcase over her protests that she could carry it herself. “Let’s get home and get the kettle on. It’s absolutely Baltic out here tonight.”

Tai’s assessment was accurate. Rey dug her hands deep into the pockets of her own coat as they walked briskly to the flat Tai and Ben shared, ducking her head and shivering. It was bitterly cold tonight, and it was drizzling slightly – just enough to give the cold air a damp, miserable edge. She breathed a sigh of relief when they got to the flat, which was blessedly warm and cozy.

Tai made tea as Rey retrieved her latest baking experiment from her suitcase: pumpkin bread, made with chocolate chips and walnuts. She and Tai sat down at the kitchen table with their tea and a slice of pumpkin bread each, and Tai rolled his eyes in exaggerated ecstasy as he took his first bite. 

“God bless you, lass. This is braw.”

“Thank you,” Rey replied with a smile. “How’ve you been, Tai?”

“Cannae complain. The studio’s been picking up business. I’ll have to bring on another teacher soon if it keeps up.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Aye, it is.” There was a pause as Tai sipped his tea and ate another bite of the pumpkin bread. “Ben’s been working himself to the bone, though. He’s been at the university late every night this week.” 

As if Tai’s words had summoned him, they both heard Ben’s key rattle in the front door lock, and a moment later he blew into the kitchen, looking frazzled, with droplets of freezing rain clinging to his coat, scarf, and hair, and his messenger bag still looped over his shoulder. “Hey!” he breathed as he unwound his scarf and swooped in to give Rey a chaste kiss in greeting. “I’m so sorry _mo chridhe_ , we all got roped into a meeting and I couldn’t get away!” He ran an anxious hand through his hair before distractedly shaking water droplets onto the floor.

“It’s okay, Ben,” Rey replied with a smile.

“Tak’ your wet things off, man, and come have a cup of tea and some of this bread your lass made,” Tai said, already rising to put the kettle on again.

Ben looked down, seeming to realize for the first time that he’d neglected to take off both his coat and his shoes.

“I’ll help you,” Rey said with a wink, rising from the kitchen table.

She bundled Ben down the hall to his bedroom. She shut the door behind them and took the opportunity to give him a more satisfactory hello kiss, interrupting his continued, disjointed explanations and apologies for being late. Seeming slightly calmed by her kiss, Ben let his messenger bag slip to the floor, then shrugged out of his coat, toeing his shoes off at the same time. After hanging his coat up, he enfolded Rey in a hug, letting his larger body sag against hers a little. Rey held him tightly for several long moments, enjoying the feeling of being in his space again; the feeling of him being in hers. He smelled of pine and rain and old books, and of long hours spent in a university library. 

She drew back to look at him properly. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair, normally glossy and well-kept, looked lank and tired. And his skin, which was stubbornly fair even in the summertime, was now positively pallid, with several days’ growth of beard shading his jaw. “Oh, Ben,” she murmured, gently running her thumbs underneath his eyes. “Let’s get something warm in you.”

An hour later, Ben seemed somewhat restored. Rey was snuggled into his side on the couch and Tai was lounging in an armchair as the three of them watched _Inception_. Ariadne was just beginning to play with the physics of her shared dream with Cobb when Rey felt the buzzing of a phone. She patted her jeans pocket – not hers. Ben fished for his own phone with a frown. As he drew it out of his pocket, Rey saw the name on the lock screen: **Mom**.

Ben went very still for a moment, and then began disentangling himself from Rey. “I’m sorry guys, I need to answer this.”

“Should I pause the film?” Tai asked, hand already on the remote.

“No,” Ben replied, already getting to his feet. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Hopefully not too long,” he said, with an apologetic look over his shoulder at the both of them as he walked out of the common room, lifting the phone to his ear.

Rey tried to keep her attention on the movie, but as the minutes went by and Ben didn’t return, she began to worry a little. Ben mentioned his family in the States only rarely. He’d told her about them once, on their first date back in May, when they were both walking Hadrian’s Wall. But the subject of his parents had hardly ever come up since then.

Rey furrowed her brow and absently chewed her thumbnail. What little Ben _had_ said about his parents had led her to understand that his relationship with them was strained. She could relate. Her relationship with her own parents was strained to the point of non-existence. The last she’d heard, her father was in prison and her mother was “in the wind,” to borrow an expression she’d heard in an American television drama once. If either one of them called her out of the blue, she had no idea what she’d say to them.

A few more minutes passed, and Rey asked Tai to pause the movie while she went to the toilet. On her way to the bathroom, she passed Ben’s bedroom. The door was cracked, and as she walked by she heard Ben’s voice, strained with agitation. “Mom, we have this same conversation every year. I’m not coming to Chicago for Thanksgiving. I don’t get time off for it, because it’s not a thing here. And even if I could get the time, I wouldn’t want to take an eleven-hour flight just to be there for three days!” There was a pause, and when Ben spoke again, he sounded wounded. “You know that’s not what I’m saying, and you know that’s not fair.” Suddenly aware that she was eavesdropping, even without meaning to be, Rey hurried on to the bathroom.

Sometime later, Ben finally rejoined her and Tai in the common room, giving her a wan smile which didn’t reach his eyes as he resumed his seat next to her. He took one of her hands in both of his and held it loosely as they watched the rest of the movie, only occasionally stroking it with his thumb.

The movie ended, Cobb’s wife’s totem giving a tantalizing wobble just before the screen cut to black, and Tai announced with a theatrical yawn that he was going to bed. Rey and Ben followed suit. It was past midnight and Rey was genuinely tired, and she stifled yawns of her own as she brushed her teeth, donned her sleepwear, and tied her hair up in its nighttime bun in the bathroom.

When she returned to Ben’s bedroom, she was a little surprised to find him already under the covers, facing away from her. A flash of surprise swept through her. It was usually their custom to read in bed together, or make love, or whisper in the dark for a while, before going to sleep on their first night. Typically all three, in some order or other. To see that Ben had gone to sleep without her, without bidding her good night in some way, made her feel a little bit hurt and forgotten.

She resolutely tried to dismiss those feelings as unworthy. Ben was stressed and tired; she’d seen it all over his face when he’d gotten home. Tai had said he’d been working hard, and working late, all week. She couldn’t – wouldn’t – blame him for being tired. For falling asleep before they’d gotten to talk properly, or drift off to sleep together, skin-to-skin.

Then she noticed how tensely Ben was holding his body, the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders visible even in the limited light of the lamp on the bedside table. And how unsteady his breathing was. 

He wasn’t asleep after all. But something was clearly wrong. 

Rey took a step toward the bed, and ventured a question. “Ben? Are you alright?”

A moment passed, during which she thought he might not answer. Then the answer came, muffled and small. “No.”

She took another step, which brought her next to the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Another long moment passed in silence, and when Ben spoke again, his voice was the most vulnerable she had ever heard it. “Rey, can you hold me?”

Heart overflowing with love and concern, Rey immediately climbed into the bed, getting under the covers and wrapping her arms around Ben from behind, one across his chest and the other snaking under his body to wrap around his waist. The hand of the arm around his chest came to rest over his heart, and Ben brought a hand up to hold it there, taking several deep breaths. Rey waited patiently for him to speak.

“My mother called.” Ben swallowed, letting that statement hang for a long moment before continuing. “This is the time of year when she calls a lot. Holidays coming up. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, New Years. My birthday.” Rey nodded, her chin bumping his shoulder. They’d told each other their birthdays on one of his first visits to Durham: his January 3rd, hers March 7th. 

Ben continued. “I don’t know whether she _means_ to guilt-trip me, or if she’s even aware she’s doing it, but…” He pressed her hand over his heart harder, seeming to try and ground himself. “There were…hurt feelings, when I told my parents I was going to college overseas. My grandfather left me a trust fund to pay for my higher education, so they couldn’t stop me. My mom took it badly. She interpreted it as me trying to get away from them. Me using Granddad’s money to get away from _her_. Their relationship was…incredibly fraught and messy, which just added a whole other dimension to it. And then there were even more hurt feelings when I didn’t move back Stateside after graduating.” Ben paused again. Rey wrapped one of her legs over his, drawing her foot along his shin in what she hoped was a soothing way. 

“I do usually go for a visit in late December, after the end of the fall term. But it _never_ feels like it’s _enough_ for them.” _Never enough_. Rey heard the great weight in those words; the stories they held. “And this year, with my doctoral project going on…” Ben let out a terrible, painful sigh, seeming to curl and shrink into himself a bit more. Rey tightened her limbs around him.

“It’s like this every year, this time of year. But this year, with school, it’s even harder. And I don’t want to deal with their drama this year. It’s about to be the holiday season, Rey, and I don’t even want to see my own family. Isn’t that terrible? Every year it gets worse. My mom just looks so wounded, and my uncle just looks so reproachful, and my dad can’t deal with any of it, he’s out of the house more than he’s not and…I just don’t know if I have it in me this year.” There was another pause, and Rey felt Ben’s breathing grow more uneven and labored, where his back was pressed to her chest.

“But the alternative is…staying here, in Scotland, for the darkest part of winter.” Ben’s voice cracked, and Rey could feel him start to tremble in her arms. “And I don’t…know…if I…” Ben’s voice cut off on a ragged sob, before he continued doggedly on. “If I have that…in me either!”

Within a split-second Ben was crying uncontrollably, deep sobs wracking his entire body. Rey clung to his back like a vine, attempting to completely enfold him within her arms and legs. Oh, her poor love! He’d given a few hints in their text messages and phone calls that he was dealing with some stress, as the end of the school term drew near. But she’d had no idea it was this bad. And clearly, it wasn’t just school. 

Freeing the arm underneath him but trying to keep as much contact as possible, she scooted up his body so she could tuck his head under her chin, squeezing her arms even more securely around his chest as she did.

“I’m sorry,” he said plaintively, trying and failing to staunch his tears. “I’m sorry Rey, I’m sorry I’m like this, I’m sorry I’m ruining our weekend together…”

Rey shushed him, keeping one hand securely over his heart while she ran the other through his hair, over and over. She put her mouth to his ear and said softly, “Dear heart, it’s me.” Ben sobbed again. “It’s me. It’s me. It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend.”

They stayed like that for a long time, Ben crying while Rey held him, running a hand through his hair and speaking soft words to him. When his tears calmed a little, Rey brushed a kiss to the shell of his ear before whispering a gentle question into it.

Ben sniffled inelegantly, but answered steadily. “Winter is hard. The short hours just…do my head in. I don’t have another way to explain it. And with my family calling, and everything else…I’ve seen a counselor in the past, during the winter months, and I have a lightbox, but I haven’t gotten it out of the closet yet this year.” He snorted a rueful laugh. “Maybe it’s time.”

“Mm.” Rey ran her hand through his hair again, before leaning over him to switch the lamp off. Ben’s breathing was steadier now, and his muscles were more relaxed, his inner turmoil exorcised, at least for the moment. He relaxed further as she kissed his hair, his temple, the skin right behind his ear. “I love you, Ben,” she whispered to him. “Sleep now.”

In time they both slept, and when Rey awoke it was to gray morning light coming in through the window. Ben’s head was still nestled underneath her chin, but he had turned over in his sleep and was now burrowed into her chest, his arms wrapped around her. He stirred as she began to sit up, preparatory to leaving the bed. He grumbled a petulant “No” and reached for her, and she lay a reassuring kiss to his forehead. “I’m just going to make us some tea, I’ll be right back.”

In the kitchen she encountered Tai, who was humming tunelessly to himself as he peeled fruit for a breakfast smoothie. There was still hot water in the kettle, and Rey got two mugs down from a cabinet and leaned against the counter as she waited for the tea to steep. The toaster went off, and Tai wordlessly loaded up a plate with buttered toast and slid it across the counter toward Rey. She smiled at him gratefully, and then hugged him impulsively – a hug Tai returned with a hearty squeeze – before carefully gathering up the plate and two mugs and making her way back to Ben’s room. 

Ben was sitting cross-legged in bed with his back against the headboard when Rey padded back in. She sat down facing him, their knees touching. After taking a sip of her tea, and a few bites of toast, she carefully balanced the mug on the mattress and clasped her hands, fixing Ben with a gentle but authoritative look.

“Here’s what I’d like to do today. I want to find your lightbox, and your counselor’s phone number. Then I want to take a shower with you. And then I want us to go to the Kelvingrove Museum.” She raised an eyebrow. “Any objections?”

The corner of Ben’s mouth quirked up with a hint of a smile. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Alright then.” Rey nodded and took another sip of her tea. Then another thought occurred to her. “Thinking ahead a little…you don’t have to decide today, but if you want, you could spend Christmas with me and Jannah, in Durham. Rose has family in Nottingham so she’ll be away, but Jannah and I will be there. And you’re welcome to come stay with us.”

Ben seemed to consider as he chewed and swallowed a bite of toast. “Jannah won’t mind?”

“I’ll text her today and ask her, but I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Ben nodded, smiling at Rey a little shyly. “I think I’d like that.”

When they had both finished their tea and all the toast, Rey took the plate and mugs and set them on the nightstand before taking Ben’s hands in hers and lacing their fingers together. “You’re not alone.”

She saw his eyes tear up a little, but he smiled and squeezed her hands tightly. “Neither are you.” He pulled her into his lap and held her close for a long moment, as if he was trying to keep the world at bay for a little while longer, before drawing back and kissing her, slowly and thoroughly.

“It’s not fair how much I love you.”

***

_Now_

Rey woke wrapped around Ben, his back to her front and her leg slung over his hip, pressing herself as close to him as possible. She wound the arm flung over him even more tightly across his chest, and after a moment, he brought a hand up to lace his fingers through hers, stroking her hand with his thumb.

They had another longish day ahead – thirteen miles to Bridge of Orchy. But the cabin was cozy and warm, and Rey found that she was in no hurry to rise and begin the day. She sighed contentedly and pressed her forehead into Ben’s back, between his shoulderblades, feeling his chest and back expand with each breath he inhaled and exhaled. 

After several long, luxurious moments of drowsing together in the pale morning light, Ben turned in Rey’s arms to face her, smoothing her tangled brown hair away from her face before murmuring a “Good morning” and kissing her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and finally her lips. Rey gazed at his face, so close to her own, and delicately ran a finger across it, outlining his features. The black eyebrows, bordering warm brown eyes still hazy from sleep. The prominent nose, the full mouth, the moles scattered across his cheeks. Her finger ventured up to trace the outline of his ear. Ben was self-conscious about his ears and wore his hair long partly to cover them, and it had been ages before he’d let her see them. 

Exploration complete, she urged his face down for one more kiss. When they separated, he smiled at her with a glint of excitement and anticipation in his eyes.

“Ready for the fun part?”

***

The morning began with a long pull up and out of Crianlarich – not exactly what Rey would have called “fun.” Still, it was a much less frustrating climb than what they’d had to deal with along Loch Lomond, and she limited herself to only a little bit of mostly good-natured grumbling as they climbed uphill, with Ben leading the way.

After about twenty minutes of climbing they were back at the signpost where they’d left off the day before, and they took a brief moment to rest and drink some water before the climb continued, this time with Rey in the lead. “We’re climbing out of Glen Falloch, and we’ll be dropping into the next valley, Strath Fillan, when we get to the top,” Ben explained as they resumed climbing.

They still had a long way to go before they’d be there, but the trail under their feet was mostly smooth dirt – wonderfully soft under her feet – and Rey let her mind wander as they hiked. They were hiking through thick pine forest and her view of the sky was obscured, but if she craned her head upward she could see a mixture of blue sky and gray-white clouds. Birdsong filled the cool morning air around them. Clusters of toadstool mushrooms lay scattered at their feet, along the verges of the trail.

It was a morning for daydreaming. 

One of Rey’s favorite things to do while she was hiking was to imagine that she’d fallen through time. It was easy to do on trails like this one, which had originated as drove roads for the movement of cattle to market, or footpaths worn by people walking between villages. This trail through Scotland’s western highlands, which they were truly reaching now, had existed long before the West Highland Way. And it was easy to imagine herself as a Scotswoman from three centuries ago or more, on her way to transact some business in Tyndrum or Bridge of Orchy. Or as a cattle reaver, on her way to make mischief for a laird who needed to be taken down a peg or two.

Just when the climb seemed like it would never end, Rey and Ben reached the top and began a gentle descent into Strath Fillan. The tree branches were even thicker overhead now, all but blocking out the sky, and adding to the fey, daydreamy unreality of the woodland. Rey would not have been surprised if the Erl-King himself had stepped out from behind a tree. She glanced over at Ben, who was walking side-by-side with her now. He was wearing a green long-sleeved shirt today, and linen trousers in a brown so dark it was almost black. She thought the whole outfit, in these surroundings, made him look rather fey himself. _“Maybe I’ve secretly been dating the Erl-King all this time_ ,” she thought.

The forest’s spell was abruptly broken when the railway line found them again near the bottom of the slope, passing over their heads on a stone viaduct. Around the same time that they passed under the rail viaduct, Rey started hearing traffic noise. Only moments later, she and Ben abruptly emerged from the trees with the A82 – the main highway running through this part of Scotland – practically at their feet. 

After dashing across the road and crossing a bridge over the river which ran immediately alongside it, they arrived at a farm gate. The farmyard itself seemed to be abandoned, or at least disused, but a hand-written sign posted on the gate testified to some form of ownership. “ **KEEP WELL RIGHT – BELIEVE ME** ,” it declared in block lettering. 

“Huh,” Rey said, peering into the yard. The reason for the sign was clear: the ground on the other side of the gate was very, very muddy. A line of small red traffic cones delineated what she supposed was the safe path across, which indeed kept well to the right of the yard. She and Ben let themselves through the gate and began to pick their way across, toward an outbuilding on the far side of the yard. Rey walked in front, so she could test the ground with her trekking poles. 

Rey was typically very careful when making her way across muddy or boggy ground. She recalled an incident she’d witnessed when she was eleven or so, doing a section of the Pennine Way with her grandfather, when they’d come across another walker who’d gone chest-deep into a bog. It had taken several people, improvising solid surfaces and rope belays with whatever equipment they had to hand, to get him out, soaked, muddy, and shivering. Since then she always made a point to be certain of her footing on unstable ground.

So her embarrassment was great when she stepped wrong about halfway across the farmyard and found herself stuck fast.

Her back foot wouldn’t budge. It was stuck in mud to the bottom of her gaiter. She tried to shift her weight to pick up her front foot, and it wouldn’t budge either. She made a disbelieving noise as she kept trying to pick up each of her feet in turn, to no avail. “Crap!” she finally shouted.

Ben’s voice came from behind her. “Rey?”

She was finally forced to say the fateful words. “I’m stuck.” With an aggrieved sigh, she began trying to use one of her poles as a shovel, to dig her front foot out.

“Huh.” There was a beat, and then Ben spoke again. “Hang on a sec.” Ben carefully sidled around her, being careful to keep away from the deeper mud on her left side. When he was in front of her, he held out a hand for her poles. Rey handed them over, thinking he planned to use them to help dig her out. So she was surprised when he collapsed them, stowed them in the outer netting of his backpack, and then flung his backpack clear with a powerful heave. Rey was impressed when it landed neatly against the wall of the outbuilding, well out of the mud. Then he bent his knees, offering Rey his back. “Hop on.”

Hopping was out of the question, as stuck as Rey’s feet were, but Ben was able to bend down enough for Rey to wind her arms securely around his shoulders. Then Ben simply straightened up, pulling her out of the mud. Rey breathed a sigh of relief. She was free! She expected Ben to simply put her back down again on more solid ground, but instead he wound his arms securely under her legs and carried her, backpack and all, the rest of the way across the yard, to where his own backpack had landed.

He set Rey back on her feet, got her poles back out of his backpack netting, and handed them back to her. As she extended them back out, she smiled up at him. “Thank you. You’re my hero.” Ben smiled in turn; but Rey wasn’t finished yet. “And if you ever fling my trekking poles again, I will bonk you on the head with them.”

Ben’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but his smile didn’t fade. “Noted.”

***

After leaving the farmyard, they paused briefly to view the ruins of Saint Fillan’s Priory. The priory had been small – just a single, fairly modest building tucked into a small stand of trees, but the ruins were evocative. They reminded Rey of the ruins she’d seen along Hadrian’s Wall – stones outlining where walls and foundations had been, slowly being reclaimed by nature and appropriated by the local populace for their own building projects. There was a graveyard next to the priory remains, with gravestones so old that their inscriptions had been totally weathered away by time, if they had ever had inscriptions to begin with.

This reminder of where they’d first met made her pull Ben’s face down for a tender kiss which he returned with enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around her waist. When they separated, he kissed her forehead and then rested his cheek against her hair for a long moment, gazing at the priory ruins as a light breeze rustled the trees overhanging it. “It reminds me of Hadrian’s Wall,” he said, echoing her earlier thoughts with such precision and clarity that Rey smiled.

“It does,” she agreed. “I’m guessing this isn’t Roman, though?”

Ben shook his head. “Much later. The graveyard is older, but the priory is 13th century. We’re getting into Robert the Bruce country now. Come on,” he said, releasing her with a final kiss to her forehead. “Only a few more miles to Tyndrum.”

Shortly after leaving the priory they passed through a commercial campsite, and then they were out in open country again. The next three miles were some of the most pleasant walking they had done in days. The trail was packed dirt and gravel, winding through low scrub and heather that would be dormant until late summer, with the mountains rising higher around and ahead of them. Ben narrated a little as they went, pointing out more mountains he had climbed, and telling the story behind a small lochan where Robert the Bruce was rumored to have lost his sword while retreating from a battle. Rey took it all in, absorbing everything – the atmosphere, the vistas, Ben’s words – like a sponge. As they wended along the trail, an incredible sense of happiness and well-being came over her, and as the sun came out from behind a cloud and lit up the air around them, she let out a delighted laugh. 

It was lunchtime when they reached Tyndrum, a small town which served as a significant waypoint on both the West Highland Way and the A82. They passed through a gate, and followed a footpath along the edge of a field and past a railway station to reach the town proper. As they passed the station, Rey peered at the posted information sign which declared the station be to “Tyndrum Lower.”

“Is there an ‘Upper’ one, too?” she asked half-jokingly.

“There is, actually.” Ben nodded in the direction of the hillside across the A82. “Tyndrum is the smallest place in the UK to have more than one railway station. It’s to do with the geography – we’re getting into the real mountain country now. The railway line splits at Crianlarich, and the trains going to Oban pass through this station-” he gestured over his shoulder at Tyndrum Lower, receding into the distance as they approached the road, “-and the trains going to Fort William and Mallaig go through Upper Tyndrum.”

A short walk on a footway along the A82, which functioned as Tyndrum’s high street, brought them to the Real Food Café. The restaurant was bustling with other hikers, but Ben and Rey were able to find an empty table by a large window. Rey gazed happily out the window and sipped from a bottle of sparkling water as they waited for their food. “This is so beautiful, Ben,” she said, looking out at the mountains to their north and east.

“It is,” Ben agreed. “I love it here. I love these hills in particular. Tai would say they have really benevolent and comforting energy, and I think he’s right.”

Rey smiled fondly at the reminder of Ben’s deeply spiritual friend and flatmate. She could perfectly imagine him here, communing with nature and the universe as he went through his meditation and yogic practice for the day. She supposed that, in their own way, she and Ben were doing precisely the same thing. What was meditation, after all, but the focusing of thoughts through some repetitive action? Fingering prayer beads, flowing through a series of _asanas_ , or continually treading a path…the objective of all of them was to arrive at some destination, more enlightened than when you’d left. But the journey was important, too. Maybe even more so than the destination.

“Promise we’ll come back and do this again, and climb some of these hills?” she asked, reaching across the table to squeeze one of Ben’s hands.

Ben smiled broadly and squeezed back. “I promise.”

***

After their hearty lunch of cheeseburgers and the Real Food Café’s homemade carrot cake for dessert, Rey and Ben retraced their steps back past Tyndrum Lower Station to the gate where they’d left off. The trail took them through a field bisected by a tributary of the River Cononish, a broad, shallow waterway which was crystal clear in the early afternoon light. They traversed the field and met the A82 again at the western edge of Tyndrum, across from a petrol station which advertised itself as the last place to buy camping supplies until Kinlochleven, 28 miles further along the West Highland Way.

They crossed the highway and followed a footpath which gently climbed past the service station and up onto elevated moorland. The mountains that had been getting bigger and bigger all morning as Ben and Rey trekked closer and closer to them now reared up directly over their heads, and Rey paused briefly to crane her head and neck back in awe. The morning’s tree cover had almost completely faded away, and she could see the trail – now packed gravel – ribboning out ahead of them for miles, contouring around the base of this sleeping giant of a mountain. 

“Beinn Odhar,” Ben said, answering her unasked question. “And in a wee while we’ll be able to see Beinn Dorain.”

They set out along the gravel track, under the benignant shadow of Beinn Odhar. Aside from a few brief dips here and there the trail was almost completely level, and they flew along, propelled by their renewed energy from lunch and the gloriousness of the landscape. When a breeze whipped up and blew against them, Rey extended out her arms, pretending for a few moments that she really was flying.

As Beinn Dorain came into view ahead of them, its sharp and distinctive conical shape thrusting boldly up into the sky, the trail traveled further away from the A82. But the road remained in sight, paralleling their course on the other side of the broad valley. Nearer to them ran the railway line, also paralleling the West Highland Way, making its own way north. 

It struck Rey that this particular strath must have been an incredibly important transportation gateway since time out of mind. The highway, the railway, and the West Highland Way all running together through this particular artery in the highlands could be no accident. It was a strangely comforting thought, and it gave her an incredible sense of connection to anyone and everyone passing this way, past, present, or future. When a passenger train rattled past them just as they were leaving Beinn Odhar behind, Rey waved at it enthusiastically. It was close enough that she could see passengers through the windows, and she saw two children wave back at her with equal enthusiasm. She laughed with delight, and Ben chuckled beside her.

They crossed a footbridge over a stream, and then they were at the foot of Beinn Dorain, which rose up to an even more dizzying height than Beinn Odhar had. The trail curved smoothly around its base in much the same way as it had Beinn Odhar, molding itself to its curves and contours like a fond lover, and in what felt like no time at all, the appearance of another railway station heralded their arrival in Bridge of Orchy.

Rey was almost sorry to be done with the day. “Can we keep going?” she asked Ben, with a half-smile and a wrinkle of her nose that told him she was mostly kidding. “I don’t want this-” she extended her arms out wide again, encompassing the mighty landscape around them, “-to be done yet.”

“We could,” Ben said, with mock-seriousness. “We could keep going until we got all the way up to Cape Wrath, if you wanted. I’m not sure we’d make it there before nightfall, though.”

Rey laughed. “Fair point. Plus, we’d miss out on this hotel.” The trail had brought them back to the highway once again, and directly across from them was the plush Bridge of Orchy Hotel – their one serious extravagance for this trip, and one she’d been looking forward to even more than the hot tub in Inversnaid.

The hotel’s location in this isolated area meant that the vast majority of its clientele were hikers and hillwalkers. The desk clerk who checked them in barely batted an eye at Rey’s legs, still muddy to mid-calf from her misadventure earlier in the day. Still, Rey couldn’t help feeling a little bit self-conscious at the dirt she’d tracked in to the lobby. After getting their keys and making a reservation in the hotel’s dining room for dinner, Rey and Ben made their way to the annex building where the hotel’s premium rooms were housed. Ben let them in, and Rey caught her breath for what felt like the millionth time that day.

Their room had a small foyer which served as a mud-room, and she took advantage of this to shed her backpack, boots, socks, and trousers before venturing further into the space and gazing around with appreciation. It was brightly lit, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a sliding glass door taking up the entire far wall. Through the curtains, she could see their private patio area, with a view of the River Orchy beyond. There was a flatscreen TV, and a massive bed made up with white sheets and coverlets and fresh towels folded neatly on top of it. The ensuite bathroom had marble fixtures and a shower that would be plenty large enough to accommodate both of them, if they so desired.

“Worth it,” Rey said decisively, recalling the eyewatering price they’d paid for this room.

“Agreed,” Ben replied. He’d taken off his own boots and socks, and was gazing around the room with the same appreciation Rey had. His eyes landed on the shower, visible through the open door of the ensuite, and Rey saw him rapidly arrive at the same conclusion she had. He turned his head back to her, his eyebrows raised in a silent question and a mischievous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Rey responded with a wicked grin of her own, pulling her shirt over her head in one smooth motion.

***

Much later, as they lingered over a glass of wine in the hotel’s restaurant after an astonishing meal ( _“Worth it,”_ they’d both agreed once again), Rey reflected that it had been awhile since she’d smiled and laughed this much in a single afternoon. She’d laughed as they’d washed the day’s mud and sweat off each other with wandering hands and eyes; she’d laughed as they’d tumbled out of the shower and into bed, catching toes and elbows on the doorframe in their eagerness; and she’d laughed as she’d ridden Ben with her hands braced on his shoulders and his hands caressing her everywhere he could reach. She’d laughed as his eyes had practically rolled back in his head as he tasted his first bite of the hotel’s salmon. She’d laughed as he fed her spoonfuls of his crème brulee after she demolished her own chocolate torte.

And even before that, she’d been smiling and laughing for much of the day, from the sheer happiness their surroundings brought her. The rugged beauty of the mountains, and the way the trail itself seemed to beckon and pull her onward, promising more glorious sights just around the next bend…it felt like there was too much joy and delight in the world to be contained within a single human form.

It seemed surreal that this, far and away her favorite day of the West Highland Way so far, should have followed immediately after her _least_ favorite day. _“But isn’t that so representative of life itself?”_ she thought, looking out the large window of the restaurant at the mountain ridge they’d be climbing the next morning. _“There’s no joy without suffering, and there’s no happiness without sadness.”_

“Penny for your thoughts, _mo chridhe?_ ” Ben asked her, smiling in a way that told her she didn’t truly have to answer if she’d rather remain in her own head.

Rey smiled back. “Just thinking about…duality, I suppose. About how shattered and exhausted we were this time yesterday. About what a difference a day can make.”

Ben hummed, and they lapsed back into contented quiet as they both continued to gaze out the window. From where they were sitting, they could see a small bit of the West Highland Way – the bit that would begin their day tomorrow, crossing the River Orchy and climbing the ridge to reach Inveroran and Loch Tulla on the far side. As they watched, a lone walker appeared, starting up the path and climbing until they were lost to sight in the fading light. 

They continued to linger until they were the last patrons left in the dining room and the first stars had appeared in the night sky. As they walked back to their room, Rey shivered a little at the chill that had crept in as the sun set. Ben took a long, deep inhale of the night air, peered up at the sky, and then made a solemn pronunciation:

“Snow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by ["Fair" by The Amazing Devil](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mBVP9Z_sac), and [this amazing arrangement of "In The Woods Somewhere" by Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbK2J_qiQqw).
> 
> [The Real Food Cafe](https://www.therealfoodcafe.com/)
> 
> [The Bridge of Orchy Hotel](http://www.bridgeoforchy.co.uk/)


	6. Day 6: Bridge of Orchy to Glencoe Ski Centre, 12 miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue can have a little Ben POV, as a treat. :)
> 
> There is sexual content near the beginning of the "present-day" part of this chapter, bound by long lines of asterisks (*****) as always if you'd like to skip it. This particular scene is a bit more explicit than other ones I've written, so if anyone feels that the rating should be bumped up, please let me know and I will do so!
> 
> Thanks again to JuliaAurelia, who has the patience of a saint and is the best Plague Penpal and sounding board ever.
> 
> Onward!

_December (4 months ago)_

When Ben looked back on that Christmas in Durham years later, his memories would always be tinged with silver and green.

The wreaths, garlands, and other decorations festooning every doorway and lamppost in the city were evergreen and cranberry, trimmed with silver ribbon. The way the weak winter sunlight filtered through the icicles clinging to the tree branches and storefronts made everything appear spangled with silver and gold. The artificial Christmas tree which had become the main fixture of Rey, Rose, and Jannah’s common room was a cheerful pine green, trimmed with silver and gold tinsel and the modest assortment of ornaments the three women had collected over the years.

The flat was warm, redolent with the scent of Rey’s baking, Rose’s cooking, and the sounds of Christmas carols emanating from Jannah’s iPod docking station. When Rey had hugged him as he’d stepped off the train, the smell of cinnamon and cloves had filled his nose, and filled him with an incredible sense of belonging and well-being. Of _rightness_.

Rey had been there, on that Sunday in early December when he’d Skyped with his parents from his flat in Glasgow and told them he wasn’t coming home for the holidays. He’d asked her to be there, and she’d agreed, letting him grip her hand tightly under the computer desk as he explained, in the calmest voice he could muster, that Rey and her flatmates had extended their hospitality and he had accepted; that this was the best thing for his PhD work right now; and that he really wanted to spend this time and holiday with this girl he was quite serious about. And oh yes, could he finally introduce Rey, the girl he’d met on Hadrian’s Wall that past May?

Rey had smoothly taken the conversational baton, giving his parents her megawatt smile through the laptop screen and putting on the most charming and congenial version of her English accent, saying that it was wonderful to finally put faces to their names, and she was looking forward to meeting them in-person sometime and experiencing an American Christmas, maybe next year, and that she and her friends would take wonderful care of Ben over the holidays. That she regretted their first meeting had to take place this way, but that she was eager to meet them in the flesh, and thanks so much for being so wonderfully understanding that she and Ben wanted this quality time together over the holidays – their first Christmas as a couple, how excited she was! – and that she knew Ben also wanted the time to get some work done on his dissertation.

Han and Leia had been clearly nonplussed, but they’d refrained from making a scene with Rey present, and the call had ended with Ben agreeing to Skype them on Christmas Day and to let them know as soon as he knew when he _would_ be able to come to Chicago for a visit next.

As soon as the call had disconnected, Ben had gotten up from the desk and flung himself facedown onto his bed with a groan. A moment later he’d felt the mattress dip as Rey settled beside him, running a hand through his hair and down his back.

“That was…not terrible,” he’d groused into the mattress.

“No,” Rey had agreed. “I think framing it the way you did was a good idea. ‘Meet my girlfriend, who I’m going to spend the hols with.’”

“I meant it, you know,” Ben had said, lifting his head from the mattress and meeting Rey’s lovely hazel eyes with his. “I’m quite serious about you.”

Rey had smiled and tangled her fingers in his hair again, leaning down to kiss him between his eyebrows. “I do know. I meant it too. I’m excited to have you in Durham for Christmas, Ben. And I’m quite serious about you as well.”

Rey had hesitated then, as if she had more to say but was unsure how to say it. But she’d simply smiled and leaned down again, to kiss his lips this time. 

Those midwinter days in Durham were as idyllic as Ben had hoped for, and more. The evening of the day he arrived, he and the girls (including Rose, who wouldn’t be leaving for Nottingham until the following day) went to Durham’s Christmas Market, a street fair full of stalls selling food, crafts, and other gifts and goods. Ben had gotten gifts for the three women already, safely wrapped and stowed under their tree as soon as he arrived, but he couldn’t resist buying a few last-minute bits and pieces – a handmade mala for Tai, a clever mug for one of his favorite professors, and a few small odds and ends he could ship to his parents and uncle in Chicago without breaking the bank.

He also couldn’t resist buying Rey whatever caught her fancy among the food stalls. First a roasted sausage with onions, then a massive piece of gingerbread, and finally a packet of peppermint fudge. 

“You spoil me,” Rey grinned up at him, a smear of fudge at the corner of her mouth. Ben smiled and leaned down to kiss it off, tightening the arm he had looped around her waist as he did so, only vaguely registering Rose’s good-natured gagging noises in the background.

The next day they all saw Rose off at the train station, their gifts to her packed in her suitcase, and her mittened hand waving cheerfully as her train to Nottingham pulled away. They spent the rest of that day at the flat, with Rey baking and Jannah doing food-prep for their Christmas dinner while Ben acted as sous-chef for them both and Christmas carols issued forth from the docking station.

The next day was Christmas Eve. It threatened snow for most of the day, with high silver clouds obscuring the sky from horizon to horizon. But by the time the sun went down in the mid-afternoon, the snow had still yet to fall. After their Christmas Eve dinner of roast, buttery mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and Yorkshire pudding with gravy, Jannah set out for the cathedral to make her final preparations for the evening carol service. Ben and Rey curled up together in the common room to watch a film and eat a plate of the cinnamon cookies she’d made the day before, prior to making their own way to the cathedral to be parishioners at the service.

As the credits to _Home Alone_ rolled, Rey used the remote to turn the television off, and then picked up the remote for the docking station. As the cheerful sounds of “Ding Dong Merrily On High” filled the room, she curled back into Ben’s body where he was reclined on the couch. She reached across him to catch his hand with hers, intertwining their fingers. Ben sighed contentedly, glancing at the clock on the DVD player. They would need to head out soon; no time for a power-nap.

“Ben?” Rey’s head was leaning on Ben’s chest, and it made his ribs vibrate when she spoke.

“Hm?”

“I’m…quite serious about you.”

Ben smiled a little uncertainly. “I know. Me too.”

He felt Rey smile against his chest, and shift a little as she took a deep breath. “I’m thinking, quite seriously, about applying to graduate school. And I think I’m going to apply to Uni of Edinburgh. They have a taught Masters in medicinal and biological chemistry that looks…like I would like it. A lot.”

Ben inhaled a deep breath of his own. Edinburgh. Less than an hour from Glasgow by train. And one of the cities where he’d be looking for employment, once his doctorate was done. _So much closer than Durham._ But…

“Rey, that’s wonderful. Amazing!" He smiled down at her with genuine joy and pride. "But…wouldn’t you miss Durham? I know you love it here.”

Rey sat up and turned on the couch to face him. “I do love it here, that’s true. But…I want to further my education, too. Get a better job eventually. And…be closer to you, as well.”

Ben’s heart leapt and clenched at the same time. He drew breath to speak, but Rey forestalled him with a light hand on his chest. “I love this city, and I love Rose and Jannah. I’d be sad to leave. But…I think I’d be excited too, if it meant learning new things, and spending more time in a different city I love. Because I did love Edinburgh, when we went to the festival in August.” Her hand gently fisted in the front of his shirt. “And I’d be excited… _more_ than excited, if it meant being nearer to you.”

Ben wrapped his arms around Rey and hugged her close to him again, squeezing tight. “I love you.” For a long moment that was all he could think to say. _Rey nearer! Rey in Scotland!_ He’d hardly ever allowed himself to think beyond their current long-distance arrangement, and where it might lead. But now he could, and his heart felt full to bursting. “I love you,” he repeated. “And you will be the best chemistry student Edinburgh has ever seen.”

Rey laughed and pulled back to kiss him fondly. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I don’t even know if I’ll get in!”

Ben kissed her again, more firmly. “You will. You’re brilliant, and amazing, and they’d be complete fools not to take you.” Rey’s lovely hazel eyes shone up at him, flecked with green and silver in the lamplight.

When they set out for Durham Cathedral a short while later, bundled up against the cold, their way lit by the holly- and ivy-clad lampposts, the first tiny flakes of snow had begun to fall. By the time the carol service ended, it was snowing steadily. Ben and Rey congratulated Jannah on a successful evening for her choristers and then hurried home, with Ben humming snatches of “Gesu Bambino” all the while.

He lay awake for a long while after they went to bed, watching through the window as the snow fell and toying with the ends of Rey’s hair where she lay burrowed into his chest, seeking his warmth. Rey was sensitive to the cold, he’d discovered as the season had turned, and he made minute movements to adjust the blankets around them as she snored softly into his chest. Dimly he heard the sounds of Jannah arriving home and shutting off the hall light before walking down the hall to her own bedroom.

_“We could pass years like this,”_ he thought hazily as he finally began drifting off to sleep, lulled by the soft sounds of the snowfall and Rey’s breathing, and the quiet anticipation of Christmas morning under a green and silver tree. _“I hope we do.”_

***

_Now_

Ben’s prediction of snow came true.

When Rey’s eyes fluttered open on the morning of their sixth day on the West Highland Way, they roamed sleepily around the hotel room for a moment before settling on the flurries coming down in fits and starts outside, visible through a gap in the curtains over the floor-to-ceiling windows.

She watched them for a while, lying on her side with Ben curled up behind her, his deep and even breathing telling her that he had yet to wake. Dry white flakes showered down for several seconds, stopped, and then started again. Stopped, then started again. She could see a thin strip of the ground outside through the curtains, and saw that the snow was melting almost as soon as it touched down. But if it kept up, it might start to accumulate.

She thought about the day that lay before them. It was the Rannoch Moor day: A relatively short climb up and over a low ridge to Inveroran…and then ten miles across open, exposed moorland with no bailout points. It was arguably the most famous stage of the entire trail, and had the potential to be the most magical, or the most miserable, depending on the weather. 

And the weather in Scotland was always a coin-toss. 

Eyeing the intermittent snowflakes outside, Rey thought that her and Ben’s coin might still be in the air, waiting to come down on one side or the other.

*******

Just when she was beginning to think about waking him, Ben stirred behind her, breathing in deeply and seeking her body with one outflung arm. Finding her hip with his questing hand, he snuggled up closer behind her, winding his arm around her waist and sleepily pulling her flush against him. Rey exhaled a laugh through her nose when she felt his morning erection poke the base of her spine.

“Sorry,” Ben mumbled groggily, loosening his grip and shifting his hips away from her.

“It’s okay,” Rey replied, shifting her hips playfully back toward his again in invitation.

Ben, more alert now, made an interrogatory noise, and when Rey responded with a confirmatory one and another playful wiggle accompanied by a saucy grin over her shoulder, he set to work, pressing drowsy kisses to her neck and the skin behind her ear as his hand made an unhurried progress around her hipbone, over the skin of her lower abdomen, and toward the waistband of the leggings she’d worn to bed.

Rey sighed and arched back against him, letting out a pleased hum when his fingers finally arrived at their destination, diving slowly beneath her leggings and underwear to make a leisurely exploration of what lay beneath. Rey’s body tended to need additional preparation for morning sex, and Ben took his time, alternating circles with direct pressure on her clit, occasionally leaving it to delve further down between her folds before returning, patiently coaxing her body to aroused wakefulness. Rey, for her part, reached behind her with one hand to palm him through his tracksuit bottoms, giving him a gentle squeeze whenever his hand did something that especially pleased her.

The snow continued to fall lightly outside as they slowly built each other up, stoking each other’s need with all the patience and care they would give to building a campfire in an open field. When Rey finally felt that she couldn’t take anymore foreplay, that she _needed_ Ben inside her before she exploded from sheer want, she set her hands to her leggings and pulled them down along with her underwear, kicking the lot away so that it was lost somewhere under the bedcovers. Behind her, Ben pulled his tracksuit bottoms down just enough to free his cock before taking a grip on Rey’s bare thigh and pulling it up and backward over his hip, opening her to the cool morning air of the hotel room.

Rey shivered a little at the feeling of being so exposed, and Ben kissed her neck before beginning to whisper love words in a mixture of languages into her ear, trailing his fingers lightly along her inner thigh. Rey’s inner thighs were deeply erogenous zones for her, and Ben made wicked use of this fact now, teasing her with little touches of his hand which made her writhe wantonly against him. 

She moaned and reached between her legs to grasp his cock, guiding it to her entrance and slowly beginning to take him in. She turned her head for a proper kiss as Ben gave his hips a gentle thrust, sinking further inside. Rey moaned into the kiss, seeking Ben’s tongue with hers as they worked together to fit him inside her. This was not a position they engaged in often, both of them preferring the intimacy of making love face-to-face, and it took a couple of tries to find the right angle. But then all of a sudden Ben slid home, and Rey broke their kiss with a deep gasp, all at once reevaluating the merits of this particular position and moving it several places higher on her “favorites” list.

With a guttural moan, Ben hooked his elbow securely under Rey’s knee and began to rock into her, slowly but steadily. With Ben doing most of the work of maintaining their position, Rey’s hands were free to wander, and they did: into Ben’s hair, over his jaw to urge his face to hers for another kiss, and down her own body. One hand finally settled onto her clit, rubbing in time with Ben’s thrusts for several minutes as they filled the morning air with their quiet sighs and gasps. 

Then her hand drifted lower, to feel where they were joined. Rey let out her loudest and neediest moan yet at the tactile picture her fingers created: her labia spread wide to accommodate his girth, his length gliding effortlessly against her fingers, slick from his precum and her wetness, his balls fitting snugly against her body with every ingress. “ _Fuck_ , Rey,” Ben moaned desperately as his thrusts sped up. 

Rey’s fingers returned to her clit, and she distantly heard herself babbling “You feel so good Ben, I love you, I love you so much,” over and over again as she hurtled toward her peak. He returned her “I love yous” in kind, murmuring them into her ear even as his hips continued to speed up, until they both came, Ben with a shout that he muffled into Rey’s shoulder and Rey with a high, keening wail into her pillow. 

They continued to lie tangled together on their sides for several minutes, murmuring occasional sweet nothings to each other as their heartbeats and breaths returned to normal. Ben had released Rey’s knee in order to wrap his arm back around her waist, but she kept her leg hooked over his until his cock softened enough to slip free of her, a rivulet of his spend flowing out along with it.

*******

“Stay where you are, sweetheart,” Ben murmured to her, squeezing her hip and kissing her cheek before rising from the bed. Rey sighed luxuriantly as she shifted a little into the warm hollow Ben’s body had left behind in the mattress, and let her gaze drift back out the window as she idly listened to the sounds of him puttering around in the ensuite bathroom. The snow had stopped, she saw, but the overcast sky made no promises. They’d have to get going soon, she thought, eyes darting to the clock on the end table. It wouldn’t do to be caught out on the ridge between Bridge of Orchy and Inveroran if it starting snowing again.

Then Ben appeared before her, a folded washcloth in hand. Rey couldn’t miss the way his eyes regarded her for a moment before handing her the cloth, and she imagined how she must look from his point of view: Lounging on her side in a luxurious bed in an expensive hotel room, naked from the waist down, flushed and languid and thoroughly satisfied. In a word, debauched.

“You look like every fantasy twenty-year-old me ever had, _mo chridhe_ ,” Ben said as he pressed the washcloth into Rey’s waiting hand, belying the lusty words with a tender kiss to her forehead.

“Twenty-year-old you, and not thirty-year-old you?” Rey asked cheekily as she pressed the cloth firmly between her legs.

“Him too,” Ben assured her. He tactfully turned to look out the window through the crack in the curtains as Rey minced inelegantly to the ensuite. “Was it snowing when you woke up?” he asked a few moments later, voice slightly raised to carry across the room and through the slightly-ajar ensuite door.

“Yes,” Rey replied, voice raised to carry in turn. “Just flurries. Still, I think we’d better get a move on.”

“I think you’re right,” Ben said. “I’ll start getting us packed.”

***

Less than an hour later, after a hurried buffet breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, Rey and Ben were crossing the eponymous bridge over the River Orchy. The snow hadn’t started again, but the pale gray clouds high overhead portended more, and they were both dressed in their warmest walking clothes. Several campers had pitched up on the flat ground on the far side of the river the previous evening, and they were all hurriedly striking camp as Rey and Ben passed by, trying to be packed up and away before the weather turned again.

After passing through the makeshift campsite, they let themselves through a wooden gate and began following the trail as it switchbacked up Mam Carraigh, the modest ridge to the west of Bridge of Orchy. The path was stony, and the stones were slick from the melted snowfall, so Rey bent all her concentration on making sure her footing was secure as they climbed. Ben led them, sure-footed as ever, humming quietly to himself. Occasionally he put words to the tune, which floated back to Rey.

_Oh the summertime is coming_

_And the trees are sweetly blooming…_

Rey smirked at the incongruousness of the words. Summer felt a long way away just now.

Ben was waiting for her at the top, hand outstretched, reminding her of reaching the top of Conic Hill a few days prior. Loch Tulla lay below them just to the north, looking like liquid silver in the wintry light, and they took a few minutes to admire the view before beginning the descent into Inveroran.

The descent down the other side of Mam Carraigh was much easier than the ascent had been, and in no time at all they were passing through Inveroran, a small settlement which boasted a hotel and a scattering of houses connected to one another by a minor tarmac road. The West Highland Way actually made use of the road to wind through the village, and Rey huffed a sigh of exasperation as her feet made contact with the hard, unyielding material.

Ben gave her a small smile of reassurance. “Not to worry _._ This is the only tarmac of the day.”

Ben’s words proved true. After only half a mile on the paved road, they crossed a bridge, passed by a house with signage saying “Forest Lodge,” and arrived at what they’d been waiting for since arriving in Milngavie five days prior: a wooden gate with a large green and white sign saying “ **Drove Road to Glencoe** – **No Vehicles – Please Keep To The Track**.”

With an exchanged glance imparting wordless agreement, they both took their packs off to retrieve water bottles and trail snacks, fueling up for the long, unbroken trek that lay ahead. Rey regarded the sky again as she shoveled a mixture of dried fruit and salted nuts into her mouth, chasing it with a hearty swig from her water bottle. The sky was still the same shade of snowy gray-white it had been all morning, promising neither deterioration nor improvement in the weather.

_“Onward we go,”_ she thought, stowing her food and water again and picking her backpack back up. She bent at the waist to tighten her shoulder straps, then straightened back up again to adjust her hip and chest straps, all while Ben made similar adjustments to his own pack. 

Just before they stepped through the gate and onto the drove road, Rey impulsively took Ben’s hand with one of her own, holding both her trekking poles in the other one. Ben paused for a moment, then pulled Rey to him by their joined hands to give her a brief but firm kiss.

***

The first several-hundred yards of the drove road lacked fanfare. Gravel crunched under Rey’s boots as she and Ben trekked gently – almost imperceptibly – uphill, a pine plantation blocking the view to their right and a low fence obscuring the view to the left. Her spirits began to falter just a little. _“Is this it?”_ she thought to herself. _“Is this what everyone makes all the fuss over?”_

Then, abruptly, the trees and fence fell away and all she could see was mountains.

Mountains ahead of her. Mountains behind, visible beyond the trees now. And immediately before her, the desolate, majestic, gently undulating landscape of Rannoch Moor. Tussocky yellow-brown grass and hardy late-winter flowers carpeted the moorland, interrupted only by the narrow ribbon of the West Highland Way. The only sounds to be heard were birdsong, occasional wind stirring the grass, and their own footfalls.

Rey’s mouth hung open for a long moment, before quirking upward into a smile of delight. She looked over at Ben to see his reaction to the wild vista laid out before them, and found him looking back at her with an equally pleased grin. “Happy?” he asked.

“Very,” she replied.

The hours that followed were among Rey’s favorites of the entire journey. Rannoch Moor’s otherworldly beauty was beyond anything she had dared hope for. For the first time in more than a day, she and Ben were out of eyesight and earshot of any roads, and they were both content to amble along mostly in silence, listening to the ambient noises of the wind and the winged and furred creatures, great and small, inhabiting the landscape.

They were more than halfway across the moor when the snow finally resumed.

Rey startled a little when she felt cold wetness on her jaw, and lifted her head skyward just in time for a fat snowflake to land squarely between her eyes. As she wiped the snowmelt off her face with a muffled exclamation, she heard a twin sound from Ben, and turned her head in time to see a similar snowflake land on his nose.

The sight was so incongruous that it made Rey giggle. The giggle quickly turned into an outright laugh, which led to Rey being bent double with helpless mirth. Ben looked at her with a bemused expression, which eventually led to chuckles and then gentle laughter of his own, all as the snow continued to pelt down around them.

“Sorry,” Rey eventually wheezed out between further paroxysms of giggling. “You just looked so surprised!”

Ben unzipped one of his coat pockets and began to root around. When his hand emerged it held a red and blue knit cap, which Rey was pleased to recognize as her present to him from that past Christmas. She already wore his to her: a scarf with a tartan pattern in pale red and silver. He pulled the hat firmly down over his ears, and then nodded to Rey, indicating that he was ready to continue walking. 

Wet snow continued to fall for another half hour as they continued their traverse of Rannoch Moor. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the snow stopped and a break in the clouds appeared. And as the clouds broke, Rey took another deep breath as a distinctive pyramidal mountain appeared among all the other peaks around them.

“Buachaille Etive Mor,” Ben intoned. “‘The Herdsman,’ in English. Or ‘The Buachaille,’ if you want a smaller mouthful of Gaelic.”

“The BOO-hella,” Rey repeated.

The corner of Ben’s mouth quirked up. “Close.”

Rey had seen it on postcards and in films before, but here before her, it was breathtaking. The unmistakable shape set it apart from all the other hills in the area, and it gave off an indefinable aura of guardianship and protection over the moor. And it became their navigational beacon for the rest of the afternoon, as the West Highland Way made more or less directly for it, curving around the mountains bounding the left-hand side of the trail to bring them back within sight of the A82.

The clouds were gradually breaking up to show small patches of blue sky overhead, but the air remained chilly and Rey was glad when the Glencoe Ski Center came into sight. She and Ben left the West Highland Way at a small sign indicating a side trail to the Ski Centre, and they trekked single file along the narrow footpath, hopping a small stream before reaching the Ski Centre’s parking lot and trudging up to the building to check in.

They’d booked one of the Centre’s microlodges for the evening. The lodges lined one side of the parking lot, their round shapes and turf-covered roofs putting Rey in mind of The Shire from _The Lord of the Rings_. She completely understood now why Tai had called them “hobbit huts” when she and Ben had asked his opinion about lodging for this stage of the journey.

A university-aged girl with deeply tanned skin and silver-dyed hair hefted a rolled-up sleeping bag across the check-in counter. “Just one sleeping bag rental, yeah?” When Ben nodded affirmation, the girl started on a clearly oft-repeated spiel. “Check-out is by ten tomorrow morning. Your packed lunches will be ready by seven AM. The café-” she gestured to a communal dining area off to their right “-closes at eight PM. There are three shower blocks, two just outside here and one at the far end of the parking lot, by the tent pitches. One quid per five minutes of shower time. Any questions?”

Ben and Rey shook their heads no and shuffled off outside again, making their way to their microlodge. Rey let them in with the key and looked around in amusement. It was…cozy. Ben would have to duck his head to get in. But there was a kettle, and a small space heater to keep it warm. The hut was built to sleep four, on three sleeping platforms arranged in a U-shape against the far wall, but since it was just her and Ben they could make use of the smaller platforms for their backpacks while sleeping on the largest one. The platforms came with just a synthetic mattress, no blankets or pillows; hence the sleeping bag rental for Rey. Ben had brought his own, packed tight into its stuff-sack specifically for this night. He was busily unearthing it now.

“I’ll see if I can get the two of them to zip together, so we’ll have one big bag to sleep in.”

Rey smiled, a fond memory surfacing. “If all else fails, we can both squeeze into yours. We’ve done it before, after all.”

Ben smiled over his shoulder at her. “That we have.”

Rey retrieved three £1 coins from her own bag, along with her toiletries and a change of clothes, and hurried off to the toilet block for a quick shower. When she returned, shivering a little from her wet hair in the cold mountain air, Ben went for his own shower. While he was out, Rey put the space heater and the kettle on. As she waited for the water to boil, she heard a small creature scamper across the curved roof over her head. _“Bit of a comedown from the Bridge of Orchy Hotel,”_ she thought to herself with a wry smile. As her tea steeped, she held the teacup between her hands and stepped through the door and out onto the tiny porch in front of the lodge. The sight of Buachaille Etive Mor, looking just as imposing and protective as ever, greeted her.

_“Can’t beat the view, though,”_ she thought, sipping her tea.

***

Later, as Rey and Ben ate their dinner of fish and chips at the Ski Centre’s café, the last of the snow clouds finally cleared away and the setting sun lit up the mountains, visible through the café’s large windows. “Oh wow,” Rey breathed, a chip pausing in her hand before it ever reached her mouth.

“Welcome to Scotland,” Ben breathed quietly next to her, his own gaze likewise transfixed on the majestic sight before them. “Winter in the morning, spring in the evening.”

Even if it looked like springtime outside again, the outside air was still cold, and Rey wrapped her arms around herself as she and Ben made their way back to their microlodge after lingering in the café until it closed. Ben boiled more water for tea as Rey adjusted the setting on the space heater and changed into her sleeping clothes. By the time Ben had their tea made, she had crawled into their zipped-together sleeping bags with the downy material pulled up to her chin, extricating her arms only to accept the teacup from Ben.

“Two more days,” she said after a few moments and a few sips of tea.

“Two more days,” Ben agreed. “It’s the Devil’s Staircase day tomorrow. How are you feeling, _mo chridhe_?”

“Good.” Rey wiggled her toes and rolled her ankles under the sleeping bag. “The muscles are holding up well. And the Devil’s Staircase can’t possibly be any worse than those sea cliffs in Cornwall.”

Ben nodded, setting his empty teacup down. “You’re probably right.” He groaned as he rolled his shoulders, easing their strain after a long day carrying a backpack. When he had finished, he took Rey’s empty teacup and went to switch off the hut’s overhead light. “Will you be warm enough, do you think?” he asked, hand hovering by the light switch.

Rey smiled gamely. “I will be once you join me.”

Ben hummed. Then he went to his backpack, digging through it for something. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for and held it up triumphantly: His thick black hoodie jumper, Rey’s favorite. He held it out to her. “Here.”

“You truly spoil me, Ben Solo,” Rey smiled, as she accepted the jumper and pulled it on over her head.

Ben smiled back, flicking off the light switch and crossing to the sleeping platform. 

They took several moments to arrange themselves in the zipped-together sleeping bags, ending up spooned together with Ben curled around Rey from behind, enfolding her in the warmth of his arms with their legs tangled together. She sighed contentedly as she drifted off to sleep, lulled by Ben’s warmth pressed close and the pitter-patter of woodland creatures overhead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I am so sorry this chapter took so long. Real Life got very frustrating the same week that I posted chapter 5, and it's been difficult to find and maintain my writing headspace since then. There have been at least three or four instances over the last couple months where I thought I was a day or two away from completing this chapter, and then Real Life went "LOLNO."
> 
> The good news is that I am a mere five weeks away from being done with the didactic phase of PA school, and then I will be going on to my clinical year! With that in mind, I am going to do my darnedest to have this fic completed within the next two months. I can't make any promises, but that is my goal!
> 
> Songs featured in this chapter:  
> [Ding Dong Merrily On High](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1Pa5GWbnVQ)   
> [Gesu Bambino](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCvJWyBPDQM)  
> [Wild Mountain Thyme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z_kwFPyBlw)
> 
> [Glencoe Ski Center](https://www.glencoemountain.co.uk/)
> 
> And finally, [Buachaille Etive Mor from the West Highland Way](https://www.flickr.com/photos/42380104@N06/4031765098/). (This is actually the view Rey and Ben will have on Day 7, but you get the idea!)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience, and for continuing to ride along with me on this travelogue. :)


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